Hermione Granger: Agent of SHIELD
by Lil Drop Of Magic
Summary: After a series of worrying events occur in the Muggle world, Kingsley Shacklebolt finally grants Nick Fury's request to provide a magical liaison to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. (Set BEFORE first 'Avengers' film.)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Harry Potter or Marvel franchises.

* * *

"A top class report, Granger. Well done."

Hermione smiled politely at the compliment from Mr Entwistle, her boss, but in truth she felt no great satisfaction in the review she'd compiled on Hinkypunk activity in East Anglia. It _was_ a very thorough, yet succinct, report and she knew that the praise was deserved, but her lack of pride came from the simplicity of the task.

"Thank you, sir. I expect to have the recommendations for ghoul interaction to be on your desk before the end of the day." With a brief nod of the head she left her boss' office and walked the familiar path through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to her cubicle.

Ron always scoffed whenever he saw her workspace due to its pristine condition, but she had much the same reaction when she got a glimpse at how untidy _his_ cubicle was in the Auror department. She and Ron were very different personalities and she liked that. Of course, there were times when they would drive each other up the wall and they had actually broken up three times over the last two years, but Hermione couldn't imagine anyone else she'd rather have at her side.

She pulled her 'Ghouls' folder out from her desk and re-read her notes and interview transcripts in order to prepare her recommendations.

A shout of alarm from a corridor outside made Hermione react instinctively; grabbing her wand from her desk, she rose quickly and hurried to the open door, but kept out of sight. Carefully, she inched forwards to look around the doorframe to see what the commotion was about. A cloaked figure was running quickly away from her, while another person lay unmoving on the floor. Wordlessly, she sent a stunning spell at the fleeing one and watched with satisfaction as it made contact, the figure crumpling to the ground. Hermione trotted briskly over to check that the runaway was truly unconscious, and conjured ropes to tightly bind their hands and feet just to make sure they wouldn't escape.

A door at the head of the corridor opened and Hermione felt her eyes widen in surprise as the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, walked towards her. He didn't pay the two figures on the floor the slightest glance but looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"Come with me, Hermione," he said calmly, holding out a hand to pull her from her crouched position. He didn't wait to hear a response once she was standing upright, but instead walked back to the door he had exited.

"But, Minister, these people?" she asked in confusion, looking at the two prone figures. Why wasn't Kingsley concerned about a supposed attack in the corridors of his Ministry?

"Everything is under control, don't worry," Kingsley's deep voice soothed, not pausing in his step.

"But," Hermione tried again, walking hurriedly after him with a few further glances over her shoulder.

"I will explain all to you in a few minutes, Hermione," Kingsley assured her, opening the door and indicating that she should enter. She acquiesced, even though her mind was buzzing with dozens of questions.

The room she entered was little more than a broom cupboard and, despite being a member of her Department for nearly a year, she could've sworn that there'd never even been a room here. But, of course, that was entirely possible.

Kingsley motioned for her to take a seat at a rather minute table but Hermione was far too worked up for that. The door shut behind him with a much louder and deeper click than she had expected and Kingsley waved his wand around the room a few times. Hermione assumed he did so to make the space even more secure than it already was. Kingsley settled himself comfortably into one of the plain wooden chairs, before finally turning to a bewildered Hermione.

"So, Hermione, how are you enjoying your work here at the Ministry?" he asked, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

Hermione tilted her head slightly, not sure that she had heard the Minister correctly. "I'm sorry; I just stun a hooded assailant a few yards away from where we're standing and you want to chat about goblin regulations?!"

Kingsley lips twitched slightly. "Not exactly. I want to talk about you."

Hermione had to force herself to remember that she was talking to the Minister for Magic – the most important man in Wizarding Britain. No matter how confusing he was being right now, she would still show him the respect that his title deserved. She tried to calm her thoughts and emotions down, and focused on being a professional employee. "What exactly did you want to discuss, Minister?"

"As I said, how are you enjoying your work here?" he repeated.

Hermione lightly chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered what to say. "I have been given the opportunity to become familiar with the workings of a very well-organised department," she began but Kingsley shook his head.

"That's not what I asked," he pointed out. "How are you _enjoying_ your work?"

Hermione flushed at his interruption. "I'm very grateful to Mr Entwistle for giving me a position in his department and I'm thankful that he's promised to let me explore my campaign for house-elf rights," she explained and then paused. How honest should she be? Hermione didn't like lying but she had done it on numerous occasions for the well-being of others. This wasn't one of those occasions. It wasn't as though she disliked her work in the ministry; it was more that she didn't _like_ it either.

Kingsley appeared to sense her thoughts for he chuckled lowly. "I thought as much. Don't worry," he added, holding up his hand to placate her. "As I'm sure you've guessed, this conversation is very much private. In fact, for all intents and purposes, it doesn't exist."

"Is that why we're not meeting in your office?" she asked, deciding that maybe it was time to take a seat after all.

"Exactly," Kingsley nodded. "There are far too many eyes on the first floor. Now, there's something I've been wondering these last few months; why didn't you apply to be an auror when the war ended?"

"Finishing my education was incredibly important to me," Hermione answered immediately. "There was no question of me seeking employment without obtaining my NEWTs."

"Yes, I understand. But what about after, when you had graduated?" he questioned. "Given your admirable war actions I thought you would make an exceptional auror."

Hermione grimaced slightly. "That's kind of you to say but… Do you know what it was like to live every waking moment in absolute fear for the lives of those you love?" Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry. We all felt that way, I know, and others suffered far worse than I did. But, just because I may have been reasonably successful at fighting, it doesn't mean that I want to do that full time. There's more to me than just being one of Harry's supporters."

"I'm more than aware of that," Kingsley responded with a smile.

"I have aims of my own," she continued. "Things that I'd like to achieve first."

"_First_?" Kingsley repeated, leaning forward slightly. "A career in law enforcement is something you have in mind for the future?"

"I-I," Hermione stammered before letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's all Harry's fault! Being his friend meant that I became used to a certain lifestyle and now I miss that buzz," she shook her head with a wry smile. "Oh, don't get me wrong, of course I'm glad that innocent people aren't suffering anymore and we're not at war. It's just that civilian life seems a bit…lacking, I suppose. It's fine," Hermione shrugged. "I'm just adapting."

"You certainly reacted quickly to the disturbance," he commented, motioning back towards the door they'd entered. "Your fighting instincts are still right under the surface."

Hermione looked at Kingsley suspiciously. "That was a set-up, wasn't it? You wanted to see how I'd respond."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I have a job offer for you," Kingsley announced, lacing his fingers back together again.

"And this is how you offer most people jobs, is it?" Hermione queried with a trace of sarcasm.

"This is not _most_ jobs," he countered. "It is unique."

Hermione couldn't deny that her curiosity was decidedly piqued. "Go on."

"How closely do you follow events in the muggle world?"

She frowned, the question taking her by surprise. "I have a muggle newspaper delivered each morning with the _Prophet_. Oh, and I have a computer in my flat that's connected to the internet but I don't use it very often."

Kingsley nodded. "Good. Well, I suppose that it might not come as a surprise to you that during the course of The Second War a number of magical incidents were picked up on by a muggle intelligence agency."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. That wasn't good news. The last thing they wanted after finally defeating Voldemort was to have the muggles find out about them.

"Ever since then, they have been trying to get in contact with us but we have ignored all their attempts," he continued.

"What do they want?" she asked.

"A liaison." Kingsley paused to let the word hang in the air.

"A liaison?" Hermione repeated in surprise. "You want me to talk to British intelligence?"

"They're not British," he said.

"What?"

"Well, we don't think so. In truth we know as much about them as they probably do about us. My man in muggle communications could find out very little, and in truth, I'd never heard of them despite my undercover work in muggle politics. They're called S.H.I.E.L.D." Kingsley reached into a pocket of his robes and withdrew a piece of paper emblazoned with a black and white logo. He passed it to Hermione.

The main motif was that of a bird, and something about its powerful appearance brought America to her mind. She read the words that outlined the motif, aloud. "Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division. S.H.I.E.L.D. I get it. But, why do you want me to be their liaison? There must be numerous others who are more qualified for the job."

"I don't really know what this job is going to entail," Kingsley said, his voice graver than before. "They may have requested just a liaison, but I doubt things will be quite as simple when dealing with an intelligence agency. I need someone who can think on their feet, react to the situation at hand."

"Surely an auror would be better suited," she pointed out.

"Hermione, no one must know that we are cooperating with S.H.I.E.L.D. Can you imagine the outcry? If it was one of my aurors, then the news would be more likely to filter out; they are law enforcement, not intelligence. It's a different set of skills."

"And you think _I_ possess those skills?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"You're extremely intelligent, are familiar with muggle ways and demonstrate an admirable ability to think clearly under pressure. Take the incident at Malfoy Manor for example," Kingsley explained. "Before the snatchers even arrived, you jinxed Harry to hide his identity and then, while undergoing torture from Bellatrix Lestrange, you managed to deceive her about the origins of Gryffindor's sword."

Hermione shook her head. "I did what anyone would have done. I'm no one special."

"You helped orchestrate infiltrations of the Ministry and Gringotts."

"Yes, _helped_," she insisted. "Harry and Ron were very vital parts of that."

"What about your escape from the Lovegood's, or your remarkably well-prepared bag? Remember, Hermione, I have read the official reports you three made on your war experiences. So believe me when I say you have the abilities to cope with whatever this post may throw at you," Kingsley said firmly, leaning forward in his seat. "You do, of course, have the choice to turn down this offer. Your work with magical creatures will continue either way; this liaison role should only take a very small amount of your time. And, obviously, it goes without saying that you will tell no one about this, not even your best friends."

Hermione nodded. "I understand all that and I'm honestly very flattered that you think so highly of me." She paused and Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her. "I just have one question: why now? Why after two years of them requesting a liaison have you finally agreed?"

Kingsley chuckled lowly. "That is exactly the right question to ask." He waved his wand and a paper file appeared on the table between them. He pushed the file towards her. "Use the index finger of your wand hand to trace your signature on the file to unlock it," Kingsley commanded. "It's sealed shut except for your eyes and mine."

Hermione did as instructed, eager to see what lay inside. A series of still photographs were the first things she noticed. They showed a face that had frequented the front page of her muggle newspaper the last few months.

"You recognise him?" Kingsley asked as she looked through the other photos of him, some of which she knew to be taken within the last week.

"Tony Stark, aka Iron Man," she replied dryly. "A muggle technological genius who's invented a metallic suit with capabilities the world has never seen before." She looked at one of the recent photos of the Iron Man suit taken at the Stark Expo at Flushing Meadows. "From what I read in the papers, it seems like various muggles have tried to replicate his invention, which resulted in a mass drone attack in New York a few days ago." She eyed the Iron Man-inspired robots in the photos with distaste. "And this has to do with S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Given the nature of their agency, it is a reasonable assumption that they have connections with Stark," Kinglsey pointed out. "Keep looking." Hermione turned to the next part of the file. "Your muggle newspaper from this morning wouldn't have been recent enough to inform you of what happened in Harlem last night."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "New York again? Sounds like a city to avoid if you ask me," she muttered, bringing another set of photos to her gaze. These were of a lesser quality, which was understandable if the incident they showed only happened a few hours ago. Hermione could make out two abnormally large figures of an extremely muscular build; one white, one green. "Um, Minister, who, er, _what_ are these?"

"We're not entirely sure, to be honest," he admitted, looking gravely at the destruction the two creatures had left behind them. "But we believe them to be muggles that took part in scientific experiments that went wrong."

Hermione gasped. "Have they been stopped?"

"You could say that," Kingsley replied. "The white-coloured one is in the custody of muggle authorities but the green one has escaped."

"Excellent," she sighed sarcastically. "I'm almost scared to look in the third part of this folder."

"This one is a little…different," Kingsley warned as Hermione took the third set of photos. "A wizard in the States had noticed extremely strange atmospheric disturbances two or three days ago and headed to their source in New Mexico. Our counterparts over the pond sent us his statement and the photos he took of what he found."

"What are these muggles _wearing_?" Hermione asked, seeing a photo of four men and a woman in clothes that were certainly not your usual muggle attire. They were dressed in leather and metal armour, capes and carried weapons. "Those are pretty elaborate costumes." Kingsley said nothing as Hermione continued to peruse the photos. "That's a big hammer. Dressed like that he almost reminds me of…" Hermione's voice faded away when she looked at the next photo. It was hard to be sure because the person who had taken these photos had obviously been hiding at the time, but it _almost_ looked as though the man with the hammer was flying! She glanced sharply at Kingsley.

"Who does he remind you of?" he asked calmly.

Hermione stared at him, trying to perceive any jest in his features. "An old muggle legend I heard as a child. The Norse god of Thunder had a hammer. He was called Thor."

Kingsley leant back in his chair again, face still serious. "I told you this one was different."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry; do you really expect me to believe that this person," she tapped the muscular, blond-haired man's profile, "is _the_ Thor? Son of Odin and all that? An actual _god_?!"

"Our wizard friend did not hear a name mentioned for that individual in the course of events, but he did overhear the potential Thor mention that his brother, 'Loki', had to be stopped."

"Loki the trickster god?" Hermione asked faintly. This all seemed so absurd.

"The very same."

Unable to think of a response, Hermione turned to the next photo which showed the arrival of muggle men in dark suits, looking the very epitome of intelligence workers. "S.H.I.E.L.D… Merlin knows what the muggles think of all this – I'm finding it hard enough and I'm a witch! What happened after this?" she asked, reaching the end of the photos. "Are Thor and his friends still here?"

"It's believed not. The group went into the desert and the wizard didn't fancy his chances of remaining undiscovered in such open ground. He said he observed another atmospheric disturbance from afar and it's thought that Thor and his companions left to return home," Kingsley explained.

"Right," Hermione muttered, replacing all the photos and closing the folder. She rubbed her temples as she tried to take everything in.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "So, going back to your original question of why I have now agreed to a liaison with S.H.I.E.L.D," he paused and met her with a heavy gaze. "I am concerned. These incidents have all taken place within the last few days. As muggles continue to push the boundaries of what is possible with technology and science, the more threats there will be to human life, both muggle and magical. And now we discover that there appears to be life elsewhere in the universe capable of extreme power. Who knows what threats lay out there in other worlds?"

"So it's not really us telling S.H.I.E.L.D about what's happening in the wizarding world, but them keeping us up to date with potential threats we might be unaware of?" Hermione summarized.

Kingsley nodded. "They may well have a different intention for this liaison role, but that's certainly what _my_ point of view is."

Hermione frowned at the folder. "If all these things are happening in America then why not send an American witch or wizard to liaise with them?"

"Ah," Kingsley said, looking annoyed. "The truth is, that S.H.I.E.L.D are not quite as clever as they think; as far as they're aware, the only witches and wizards live in Britain. Magic in the States hasn't been detected yet and my counterpart over there would very much like that to remain the case. In exchange for us being the ones to open the channels with the muggles, they will turn their eyes to any travel you should make throughout the country, portkeys included, to a certain extent."

"I see," Hermione replied. There was a pause as he let her gather her various thoughts.

"I understand if you need time to consider this offer," he said after a while. "The situation in our society might be well on the road to recovery now, but for muggles it seems the world is growing ever more dangerous. I do need to know by the end of the day though, to give me time to rearrange the meet-"

"I'll do it," Hermione interrupted. "I'll talk with S.H.I.E.L.D."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thanks for all the love guys! I know some readers might be aghast that I've started another story instead of finishing my other ones but this story has really grabbed me. It would be pointless and demoralising to force myself to write something that I'm not in the mood for. That's not to say that those other stories will never be updated again, I just have to wait until they're particularly calling me. Thanks for understanding. :)

* * *

Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, glanced at his watch again. There were ninety seconds until a meeting began that had been over two years in the making. Exactly _who_ he was meeting, he wasn't sure, but he hadn't really expected to be given a name.

He drummed his fingers on the table in front of him and cast his eye around the perimeter. He was waiting in an abandoned warehouse (owned by S.H.I.E.L.D) in Brooklyn. Various operatives were stationed within view of the building, all of them armed. Given the week that he'd had, Fury wasn't about to take any chances. None of the agents knew exactly what they were looking out for as the knowledge of these…_people_, was strictly level ten clearance. Apart from himself and the security council, the only other people within S.H.I.E.L.D who knew about the abnormal situation in the UK were the agents who had brought him the intelligence in the first place (and they weren't exactly in a state to tell anyone.)

"No sign of any unusual activity out here, sir," Agent Coulson's voice spoke electronically in the Director's ear. If Coulson found this assignment unusual, he hadn't mentioned it, but nor was he likely to given his professionalism. Besides, he'd also been witness to his fair share of peculiar situations over the years. A mysterious stake out paled in comparison to meeting the son of Odin.

"Understood."

There were ten seconds until the agreed meeting time. Fury certainly hoped that this wasn't going to turn out to be a waste of time.

Three…Two…One…

An intense white light in the middle of the building made Fury jump to his feet in alarm, reaching for his pistol as he did so. He aimed it at the centre of the light, finger positioned on the trigger. As quickly as it had arrived, the light disappeared to reveal a young woman, looking hardly older than a teenager, a thin stick in her grasp.

Her eyes immediately focused on the weapon in his hands before moving to his face. She drew a shaky breath and spoke in the expected English accent. "Have you ever been to Brighton?"

"No, I prefer my beach with sand not stones," Fury replied. They gazed at each other for a moment longer, before slowly lowering their weapons. They were both still on alert but, so far at least, things had gone as planned with the code words.

The girl walked forwards almost hesitantly. He had to admit that he was surprised at how young she seemed but, given what little he knew about her or her people, that wasn't necessarily an indication of her age or ability. She was pretty slender, with bushy light brown hair that reached just past her shoulders. Her clothes were perfectly normal; a pair of jeans, a grey zipped cardigan and a mauve scarf.

"Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D," he introduced himself as she got nearer. He motioned to the chair on the other side of the table. "Take a seat," he offered while retaking his own.

She obliged, still looking wary. "Thank you. I'm Hermione Granger. I don't have a title or anything like that." Fury wondered for what reason she had been chosen to represent her people as their liaison. There must be more to this Hermione Granger than met the eye. "Why don't you start?" she suggested. "You're the ones who requested this meeting in the first place."

"A request that's taken over two years to be accepted. You lot aren't too keen on talking," Fury pointed out.

Hermione looked back at him impassively. "No. We're not."

Fury pursed his lips slightly. "Is there a word for someone like you? I don't want to insult you by saying the wrong thing."

The girl tensed. It seemed she was reluctant to release even this small bit of information. He wasn't very hopeful that this was going to be a particularly enlightening meeting. "Witch," she bit out eventually. "A male is called a wizard."

"Magic, huh?" Fury tried not to look too pleased at the confirmation of what his intelligence had seen. "Many people regard magic as just science that we don't understand yet."

Hermione smiled tightly and crossed her arms. "I've never tried to define it; I only know how to use it."

"A demonstration would be appreciated."

Hermione sighed but ignored his suggestion. "Director, why did you want to get in contact with us?"

"The same reason that it's taken you until this week to accept," Fury replied. "I had concerns."

"Could you perhaps be more specific?" Hermione asked. "We are talking about a couple of years ago after all."

Fury casually pulled a file from inside his coat and placed it on the table in front of her. "Take a look for yourself." She frowned at him but opened the file nonetheless. He watched as her mouth got tighter the more she saw. "So, are you going to tell me about this war or not?"

"It's over. That's all you need to know," Hermione replied, pushing the file back to him.

"And how do I know that the good guys won?" he asked bluntly.

"Because I'm sitting here talking to you like an equal," Hermione answered simply. "The 'bad guys' as you would call them, weren't too keen on people like you?"

"People like me?"

"Those without our abilities," she explained. "They thought you were lesser humans."

"You _are_ human, then?" Fury said casually, as though this was a question he asked regularly.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Do I look like an alien to you?"

Fury crossed his arms. "It's possible that beings from other planets look like us."

Hermione smiled. "Are you talking about Thor and his friends?" Fury paused. So, she knew about New Mexico too… "You wanted to talk concerns, Director. Well, inter-world travel is one for us. I can offer you my solemn word that we do not pose a threat to you and want very much to be left to ourselves. We're more than happy to let you clear up after yourselves with regards to people like Tony Stark and those creatures in Harlem. But who knows _what_ could be planning a visit to Earth next. Or, more seriously, what their purpose would be."

Fury watched her quietly. It was interesting that her fears echoed his own. His concern about an extra-terrestrial attack had prompted him to lobby the World Security Council for increased funding and jurisdiction at S.H.I.E.L.D. Luckily, they had actually agreed with him for once.

"Your concerns are duly noted," he replied shortly and silence settled between them.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "That's it?"

Fury shrugged. "You've shared your worries and told me I have nothing to fear from you, more or less making us allies. Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

"We would like your information on the visitors," she said sitting up straighter.

"Absolutely not," he replied flatly.

She let out a little sigh but didn't seem too disappointed. "Then we just ask to be informed should anything like this happen again."

"Why?" he questioned. "You said yourself that you just want to be left alone. If something hostile arrives and starts killing people without magic, you're not going to do anything until it steps foot on your home turf, right?"

"You said it yourself; we are allies, of a kind."

Fury leaned forward slightly and chuckled. "You know, it seems to me that a friend who only joins the fight once they've been attacked themselves, isn't much of a friend."

"Do the words 'Pearl' and 'Harbour' sound familiar?" Hermione asked bitingly.

"I don't remember any people waving sticks like yours around during World War Two," Fury countered.

Hermione stayed quiet, conceding the point. "You don't know what you're asking," she said with a gentle shake of her head. "This is my entire way of life we're talking about; hundreds of years of tradition. This would change _everything_."

"The world's already changing, whether you want it to or not," he pointed out. "It's time to start reacting."

"I've told you what we want. What do _you _want; us to admit our existence to the world and form a joint army?" she scoffed.

"I want to know my ally better," he stated calmly.

"It's taken two years for you to even get this far. What makes you think that we'd let you any closer?"

"Because you want our information in return," he reminded her. "You want to know about Thor, Asgard and the Nine Realms theory."

He didn't miss the way her eyes lit up slightly. "This was a polite request for that information. I could get it from you anytime I wanted and you'd never know I'd taken it."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Is that a challenge?" she asked quietly.

"You bet it is!" Fury practically boomed. "I will personally hand you _everything_ we have about the New Mexico incident if you can infiltrate three S.H.I.E.L.D related sites without being caught."

"And if I am caught, what do you get?" Hermione asked warily.

"What are you offering?"

She thought about it for a moment. "You will be given ten minutes to ask me whatever questions you wish about my community."

Fury regarded her. "How do I know you'll answer honestly?"

"There are ways to ensure it," she assured him. "Now, name your terms."

Over the next few minutes, Fury outlined exactly what his challenged entailed. He wondered if she had any idea that he was getting exactly what he wanted; an opportunity to see one of these magical people in action. He was happy to give up the details from Puente Antiguo in return.

"Agent Coulson, please enter the warehouse," Fury instructed into his earpiece.

"Yes, sir."

There was a noise from the other end of the building. Fury and Hermione watched as Coulson strode over to them, looking surprisingly calm under their twin gaze.

"Agent Coulson, meet Hermione Granger," Fury said, getting the introductions over with.

There was a definite hint of curiosity on Coulson's face as he shook the young woman's hand. None of his agents had seen her arrive and she definitely hadn't been at the warehouse before then.

"At 1100 hours tomorrow morning, Miss Granger is going to attempt to break into my office at the Triskelion," Fury informed his agent. "I would like you to be waiting in my office to see if she succeeds."

"Yes, sir."

"At 0900 hours PST the following day, she will then attempt to access the main holding cell on the beta helicarrier. I would again like you to be there."

"Yes, sir."

"Then at 1600 hours that same day, you will be waiting in Tony Stark's workshop."

"I think I can guess the rest of the orders, sir," Coulson said with a wry smile. "Does Stark know about this?"

"Not yet, but he will," Fury promised.

"See you tomorrow, Agent Coulson." Hermione Granger smiled brightly at them both, before walking in the direction Coulson had entered. Both men watched her go in silence.

"Uh, sir, I have a few questions," Coulson said.

"I'm sure you do," Fury replied dryly. "Unfortunately, I can already tell you that you don't have clearance for the answers."

* * *

AN: I don't actually know whether the Triskelion building was in operation at this time but, as you have read, I've decided to use it anyway!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: A late present from the Easter bunny for you all! Thanks for all the story-love you've been showing!

* * *

Agent Phil Coulson shifted uncomfortably as he stood waiting in the Director's office. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been in this room (The Director wasn't really the sitting-behind-a-desk type of person and was more likely to be giving orders while in transit somewhere across the country, dealing with various situations.) and this was the first time Phil been there alone.

He walked over to the large window to ease his discomfort and surveyed the immediate surroundings. The Triskelion's location on Theodore Roosevelt Island afforded it a great view of the Potomac River and, due to his current position on one of the top floors, he could see much of Washington DC before him.

Phil had all but discounted the window as a means of entrance by this Granger girl. The sheer walls were impossible to climb without specialist equipment and were constantly monitored. The windows were breakable if you had enough fire power, but she would probably need a means of transportation capable of flight to get it to this height. However, an unidentified aircraft flying in this airspace would be shot down in no time. So, unless she wanted to get herself blown up, he doubted she'd come in via the window.

He turned back to the door. That entrance seemed much more likely to him although, given that he knew nothing about this potential intruder apart from her name and her appearance, that didn't give him much to base his judgements on. She _appeared_ to be little more than a teenager and her accent sounded English but that didn't tell him much about how she intended to break into the headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D. The svelte young woman hadn't come across as much of a threat and the Director had told him that it was unlikely that he would have to use force against her. Coulson really didn't know what to think about her but trusted that his boss had his reasons for encouraging her to break into three secure locations. And if she managed to do it, then they had some pretty major security breaches to cover.

His watch vibrated, informing him that it was eleven o'clock and he concentrated his gaze on the door. A small popping noise made him turn his head and his mouth fell open.

"This is quite a view," Hermione Granger said, standing by the window, her back to him. "Is that the White House?" she looked over her shoulder, expecting him to answer.

"H-how did you get in here?" he asked, utterly perplexed at her sudden arrival.

She grimaced slightly. "I'm sorry, Agent Coulson, but I can't tell you." That didn't come as much of a surprise to him. "Well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow morning somewhere off the coast of California."

Phil nodded. "Uh, yes." He wished he could say something more intelligent but his more impressive vocabulary seemed to be lost to him at that moment.

"Say hello to the Director for me," Hermione requested, then shifted her gaze over his shoulder. "Oh, here he comes now."

As soon as Phil turned his head to look, he knew he'd made a mistake. There was another small 'pop' and when he turned back a split second later, she was gone. He frowned, annoyed that she had tricked him.

"Sir, did you see that?"

"I did," came Director Fury's impressed response in his ear. "It seems to me that you've got a flight to catch."

* * *

The beta-helicarrier was still docked in its secret US naval base when Coulson's helicopter landed on it at 1700 hours PST. Within twenty minutes, the helicarrier was on the move, headed out into the ocean. Once out of sight of land, its two enormous engines were put to full use and the vessel rose into the air.

Coulson knew that as impressive as the helicarrier was, the Director had ordered a bigger, four-engine powered model to be made. That would be quite a sight.

By morning, the helicarrier was floating in the clouds about two hundred and twenty five miles north-west of Los Angeles.

Phil had slept reasonably well when he wasn't thinking about mysteriously appearing and disappearing British teenagers. The Director had told him that Hermione Granger planned on using different methods each time she attempted an incursion. Phil couldn't help but feel if her methods were anything as impressive as the one she'd used the previous day, then S.H.I.E.L.D were seriously outmatched.

Ten minutes before Hermione's expected arrival time, Phil travelled to the holding cell and keyed in the code to allow him entry, then walked inside. The curved walls of the cell were made of reinforced glass and gave him a view of pretty much the whole room - both inside and out of the cell. He stood with his back firmly against the wall, eyes positioned on both the entrance to the cell and the room beyond it.

Nine o'clock buzzed on his wrist and Hermione Granger unveiled herself out of thin air. It was almost as though she had pulled off a piece of material that had rendered her invisible…

"Good morning, Agent Coulson," she greeted.

"Miss Granger," he nodded in reply, still a little stunned at her sudden arrival. "How long were you following me under that thing?" he asked as she moved her arms in a folding motion. He couldn't see the invisibility device but he knew it was there.

"How long do you think?" she replied, forcing the unseen object into her handbag. He was surprised that such an elaborate object could fit into such a small purse.

Phil considered her words; he hadn't had any inkling of someone shadowing his movements at any point following their previous encounter. The invisibility device must have sound dampening features too, for he would have expected to at least hear her footfalls when she walked around the helicarrier; this place wasn't exactly quiet. "Actually, I don't think I want to know," he replied.

Hermione smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "All right." She glanced at the door. "Do you know how to get us out or do I need to find my own way?"

He walked over to the console next to the door and deactivated the lock. He motioned for her to go first. "Thank you."

"So, are you gonna put that thing back on and stowaway on my ride, or have you got something else planned?"

Hermione shrugged, pausing just outside the door. "That depends on how generous Director Fury is feeling this morning."

Coulson raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I'd rather not put the cloak back on – it can get a bit tedious after a while," she admitted.

"You want an authorised seat on the chopper?"

"Yes, if it's not too much bother."

Coulson paused to listen to Fury's instructions in his ear. "He says you can get on board if you tell him the name of the device you used to hide yourself," he repeated.

Hermione lips twitched. "I would have thought that was obvious. I've already told you it's a cloak and you know what it does."

"So, it's a cloak of invisibility?"

She scrunched her nose a little. "More or less; it's an invisibility cloak. Now, which way is it to the helicopter? We don't want to be late for Mr Stark."

Fifteen minutes later, their helicopter departed from the helicarrier, heading to Los Angeles. They sat in silence for the first few minutes before Hermione pulled a large tome from her bag and started to read. Coulson narrowed his eyes at the offending bag. He didn't understand how, but he had a feeling that it was much bigger on the inside.

"I see you're a keen reader," he said loudly to be heard over the noise of the helicopter.

She lifted her eyes from the page. "What gave it away?"

He laughed. "What's your favourite book?"

"You wouldn't have heard of it, believe me," she replied with a cryptic smile, returning her gaze to the text.

"You're from England, right?" he asked. "Which part? I've been there many times."

She raised her whole head this time. "That's not going to work, Agent Coulson."

Phil lifted his hands. "What? I'm just making conversation and I don't really have a lot to go on where you're concerned apart from your accent."

"Well, that's the way I like it," she responded. "The less you know about me, the better."

"Better for who; you or me?"

"Me," she said sweetly.

They didn't speak another word to each other until they had landed. Hermione checked her watch. "See you in a couple of hours, then."

"I know you'll see me but will I see you?" he asked.

She grinned. "You'll see me this time, I promise."

* * *

" – Tony, are you listening to me?"

Tony turned around in surprise to look at Pepper Potts, the CEO of his company and the woman he was in a semi-stable relationship with. She looked angry. "Of course I am, I just don't see why we couldn't have done this at home over a three course dinner and champagne."

Pepper frowned. "You want to talk shop while we're eating?"

"What do _you_ want to talk about?" he shrugged.

She cast her hand around for an idea. "I don't know, topical events-"

"Topical events!" he interrupted, looking appalled. "I had no idea that our relationship mirrored that of a married couple in their sixties."

There was a knock on the door and Pepper's new assistant entered. At a guess, Tony would say she was pushing about a hundred and fifty years old, so she wasn't exactly much of a looker, but he was very glad to see the back of Natalie Rushman or whatever her real name was. His latest meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D had left a bitter taste in his mouth – how could he not qualify for the Avengers Initiative? It was probably for the best that the whole thing was set to be scrapped anyway.

"Excuse me, Miss Potts. Your three o'clock appointment is here."

"Thank you, Glenda, please show her in," Pepper replied. The assistant nodded and closed the door again.

"Time for me to leave?" Tony asked.

"You've got that meeting with Agent Coulson soon, anyway," Pepper reminded him.

"Oh yeah, that." He hadn't told Pepper exactly _why_ Coulson was coming because the whole thing sounded like a waste of time; there was just no way that an intruder was going to get past his front door, let alone into his workshop. "Are we on for the dinner and champagne?"

Pepper smiled as she came to stand in front of him. "I promise I won't talk topical events if you don't talk shop."

Tony pursed his lips as though considering it. "Deal," he agreed, before leaning forward to press his lips against Pepper's.

"Oh!" came a startled voice.

Pepper pulled away as though burned and they both looked over at the newcomer. She was young, around twenty, with long, light brown hair framing her blushing face.

"I'm ever so sorry for intruding," she said. "I was told to come in."

"Hey! She sounds like J.A.R.V.I.S!" Tony said with a grin, making Pepper cringe.

"Do you _have_ to say that to every British person you meet?" she muttered.

Tony nodded seriously. "Yes, I think I do."

"Sorry about that, Miss Clearwater," Pepper said with a sigh. "Tony was just leaving." She gave him a gentle push towards the door.

"It was, ah, nice to meet you, Mr Stark," the girl said, her cheeks still red.

"Yeah, you too, kid," he replied as Pepper continued to push him towards the door. "She's adorable," he whispered to her. "I want one." Pepper narrowed her eyes at him. "Not like last time. I just want to, like, pat her on the head."

Pepper frowned. "She's not a pet, Tony." With a final push she shut the door behind him.

At ten to four, Tony's unwelcome guest arrived.

"So, how was New Mexico?" he asked Agent Coulson as they made their way to his workshop.

"Oh, you know, the usual kind of thing," the agent replied and that was where the conversation ended for a few minutes as they stood around awkwardly, waiting to see what would happen.

"You don't have to be here, you know," Coulson said as the time grew closer.

"What and let you poke around in my stuff?" Tony responded. "Who are we waiting for anyway?"

"I can't tell you that, Mr Stark."

"Oh, you can't tell the name of the guy you've invited into my home? That's kinda rude. And just when I thought we were all starting to get along."

"Sir, Miss Potts is approaching," J.A.R.V.I.S announced.

Tony looked up in surprise; he wasn't expecting Pepper for another couple of hours yet. For some reason, his security system faltered as she put in the code, but the door opened nevertheless.

"Hey, what happened?" Tony called to her. "Did you change your mind about adopting the she-J.A.R.V.I.S?"

Pepper smiled but ignored his remark and stopped in front of Coulson. "Agent Coulson, nice to see you again."

"And you, Miss Potts. How are – " Coulson suddenly stopped speaking and looked rapidly between Pepper and the purse she was holding. A look of utter disbelief was on his face. "Wha- but… How? I don't…"

"Er, what's going on?" Tony asked, not comfortable with the way Coulson was looking at Pepper.

"J.A.R.V.I.S who did you say this was?" Coulson asked.

"It is Miss Potts."

"Coulson, did you hit your head when you were in New Mexico?" Tony said. "Of course it's Pepper."

Coulson didn't look convinced. "_Are_ you Pepper Potts?" he asked her.

She smiled. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

Tony paused. He was becoming more confused by the second. "Forget you; did _I_ bump my head at some point? J.A.R.V.I.S, call Pepper."

The dialling tone rang for a moment before a voice answered. "Hi, Tony. What is it?" It was Pepper's voice all right, but the Pepper standing a few feet away from him wasn't holding a phone.

"Er, hi. Where are you?" Tony asked, his mouth strangely dry.

"I'm at work," she replied. "What's the matter? You don't sound right."

"I – I'm fine. I'll talk to you later." He ended the call abruptly. "Okay, what in hell's name is going on?"

The faux-Pepper turned to Coulson. "Agent Coulson, could you please tell Director Fury to meet me back at that warehouse in an hour with the file he promised me."

"Ah, sure. You know, if that's really you, you might just be the most extraordinary person I've ever met," Coulson said, sounding amazed.

"I take that as a great compliment considering who you came across in New Mexico," the Pepper doppelgänger replied warmly.

While the other two were talking like this was a relatively normal turn-of-events, Tony had taken the opportunity to covertly walk backwards to where his suits were waiting. As his latest suit started to fix itself into place around him, Coulson and non-Pepper looked over in surprise.

"Look, I don't know what the hell you are, but I highly recommend you get out of my house before – "

But he never got the chance to say the rest of his threat because fake-Pepper fired something at him that promptly made his suit dismantle. Tony looked down at the pieces of his suit in disbelief. "OK. Now I'm _really_ pissed off." He looked up at them but only Coulson remained there. "What the…? J.A.R.V.I.S where did she go?"

"Who, sir?"

"Pepper. Or the thing that looked like her."

"Miss Potts is no longer here, sir."

"I can see that," Tony snapped, scooping up parts of his suit. "How did she get out?"

"No exit has been used, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S replied.

Tony put his head in his hands. This felt like the beginning of a migraine. He turned on Coulson. "OK, I think it's time I had some answers and don't mess me around. I don't think I've been this annoyed since…" he thought about it. "I don't think I've _ever_ been this pissed off!"

Coulson held up his hands in the face of Tony's fury. "Honestly, Stark, I know little more about her than you except that she seems young and English!"

Tony stared at him for a moment. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, going over to his workstation.

"What are you doing?" Agent Coulson asked, coming to stand behind him as he logged onto the Stark Industries servers.

Tony paused the security footage from Pepper's office and pointed to the girl who'd had a three o'clock appointment.

"Is that her?"

Coulson didn't say anything but Tony could tell by his expression that it was. Tony scowled at her pretty little face.

He didn't want to pat her on the head anymore.

* * *

AN: Did S.H.I.E.L.D. build smaller helicarriers before the one we see in 'Avengers'? I doubt it, but you've got one here, anyway!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the support! :)

* * *

"Someone's had a fun couple of days," Nick Fury greeted Hermione as she apparated into the warehouse.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know if I'd call it fun, but it was certainly more interesting than a normal day in the office."

"Here," he held out a thick folder to her. "You earned it."

"Thank you," she said, taking and holding it against her chest.

"No, thank _you_. I'm gonna make sure Tony Stark never forgets that one of his suits was instantly dismantled by slip of a thing like you." Fury said, with the ghost of a grin floating across his lips.

Hermione winced. "I shouldn't have done that really. I never want to use my abilities on people who don't have them, but the situation escalated rather quickly and that was the simplest way to diffuse it."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Fury replied, holding up his hands. "Nobody got hurt apart from Stark's ego and that's a good thing anyway. Am I allowed to ask how your deception was carried out? Was it a spell, a device?"

"It was a, um, potion," she replied hesitantly, unsure whether it was wise to reveal the information.

"Potion, huh? You really are a witch. Do you have a cat and ride a broomstick too?" he laughed at his own joke but stopped when he noticed her almost guilty expression. "Oh."

She cleared her throat. "Thank you again, for this," she said, indicating the folder.

"There's a contact in there," Fury told her, "The person who told us about the nine realms theory in the first place. You might find it useful to talk to her; apparently she had more contact with Thor than anyone."

"Thank you, Director," she said and then paused. "You _do_ understand why I've been so reluctant to share anything with you, don't you?"

He appraised her with his one eye. "You have to protect your people, I get that. I do the same for mine. Only difference is I consider your people, _my people,_ too."

Hermione smiled gratefully and turned to leave.

"You know what the best way to protect them is, don't you?" he said, making her turn back. "How to make sure you're kept in the loop?" She looked at him quizzically. "_Be_ in the loop," he explained, but as she still didn't understand, he continued, "Come work at S.H.I.E.L.D."

She felt her eyes widen. "You're not serious."

"Why not?" he countered. "Your abilities would easily make you the best asset the agency has ever had and I doubt I've even seen a fraction of what you can do."

"It was dangerous enough to show you, Coulson and Stark as much as I have!" she protested. "You just said you understood the need for secrecy but that was obviously only words."

"No, it wasn't," Fury maintained calmly. "Look, we don't have to reveal the truth about you – we'd have to come up with some sort of story to explain your abilities, but, given the number of people coming out of the woodwork at the moment, it wouldn't take much for people to believe you act on your own. And as long as you don't announce it to the world's press like some idiot I know, then your secret would stay within S.H.I.E.L.D, anyway."

She stared at him, struck dumb by his proposal.

"The _skills_ you have," he continued meaningfully, "the _knowledge_ you possess; you could help an awful lot of people around the world, save _countless_ lives." He paused. "Don't tell me that's not something you're interested in."

"I-," she stammered. "I'm not the one you want. There are others-"

"No," Fury interrupted. "You were chosen by your people for a reason. I've seen you in action and more importantly so have Coulson and Stark. If we use someone else, they'll know there's more than one person like you."

"My friends at home," Hermione pointed out, "I couldn't just leave them."

"It's a big decision, I know. But somehow I don't think it would take too much effort to go home to visit them whenever you wanted, given your abilities," Fury pointed out.

Hermione couldn't believe that she was actually considering working with muggles, allowing them to see her abilities. It completely went against the statute of secrecy. Unless, as Fury suggested, they lie about where her magic came from?

"The one who sent me here, I'd have to talk to him," she said. "I don't know what he'd make of your suggestion."

"Do as you must," he replied simply. "Sleep on it and let me know. I'm sure you'll find a way of contacting me when you've made your decision. Either way, it's been most interesting to meet you, Hermione Granger."

He held out a glove covered hand.

Hermione shook it. "And you, Director."

* * *

"You do realise that if you accept this job and it all goes wrong, we will both be in a serious amount of trouble," Kingsley said, his voice sounding even more serious than normal.

Hermione wearily rubbed her temples. "You don't have to tell me that, Minister; I've been awake all night considering the possible repercussions and worst case scenarios of a decision like this."

"And what did you foresee?"

"Well," she said, shifting in her seat. "If the wrong muggles find out about me, then I could end up in a top secret scientific lab and be subjected to various experiments that I doubt I'll particularly enjoy. Or if the wizarding community discover how seriously I've broken the Statute of Secrecy, I expect I'd have to serve a life term prison sentence in our lovely, new-look Azkaban, or have my memory modified and be exiled to a desolate part of the world to live out the rest of my days in isolation, in complete ignorance of my past life!"

"Sounds cheery," Kingsley deadpanned.

"Quite," Hermione replied. She sounded calm but inside, her heart was beating rapidly and fear was creeping along her nerves. "And if the worst should happen and the muggles become completely aware of magic worldwide, then I imagine some very scared muggle governments would declare war upon their own countries and there would be a world war unlike any earth has seen before. Quite simply, it would be the end of our lives as we know them."

"Hmm," Kingsley's voice rumbled. "And the best case scenarios, did you think about those as well?"

"Not as much," she admitted. "But it mainly involved saving innocent people's lives whilst letting magical communities exist as they have always done."

Kingsley nodded at her words. "It is quite the dilemma. Or, at least, it would have been, if we had not already opened that door."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Sir?"

Kinglsey placed a comforting hand upon her own. "Come now, Hermione, are you really telling me that in your heart, you have not already decided upon your answer?"

"I, I don't know," she stuttered, shaking her head. "I thought that you would tell me what to do."

The Minister chuckled. "The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D did not make this offer to me," he pointed out.

"But I was sent to represent _you _and your ministry_,_" she argued. "I wouldn't accept this proposal without your backing."

"Hermione, do you honestly think I'd let you work with these people if I didn't want you to?" he asked exasperatedly.

"No, I suppose not," she muttered, finally allowing herself to accept what answer she was going to give to the Director.

"I will do my best to cover your tracks from this end," Kingsley assured her. "We'll come up with a cover story for your long absences. You _are_ aware that you still can't tell Weasley or Potter anything about this, aren't you?"

Hermione's heart sank. She knew that was coming but hearing it confirmed still hurt. She wasn't looking forward to telling Ron about this at all. She was reasonably confident that their relationship would survive the long-distance separation – they'd managed it while she completed her seventh year at Hogwarts, after all.

"Yes, sir, I know."

* * *

"You've got a new job? Congratulations!" Ron pulled her into a quick hug. "That's great!" he said with a grin and then frowned. "Why don't you look happy?"

Hermione took a deep breath and took one of his hands in her own. "Because it's a long-term worldwide animal study." She could already feel the lie twisting in her gut. "I would be away for days at a time."

Ron's hand went limp in her grasp. "Oh."

"I haven't given an answer yet because I wanted to talk to you first," she said.

Ron nodded solemnly. "But you want to take it, don't you?"

"It's a great opportunity for me," she admitted, preferring to look at his hand rather than meet his gaze. "And I think that I'll really be able to make a difference."

"Uh, wow, OK, well…when would you start?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lip. "Pretty much straight away," she answered timidly. "Look, I know it's a bit of a stunning spell, but we've done long distance before and we got through it! My portkey license if pretty flexible so I can come home a lot."

Ron opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind and closed it again.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"No, of course not!" he objected. "You and I have always done what we've thought is best for our careers, I mean, we didn't agree about going back to Hogwarts but we were mature enough to respect each other's decision."

Hermione threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tightly. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, returning the embrace.

* * *

Nick Fury glanced up from the digital file he was perusing at his desk. "So, have you decided whether 'Agent Granger' has a nice ring to it or not?" he asked his sudden guest.

Hermione nodded. "It has a certain appeal, but I _do_ come with some conditions."

Fury switched off the file and put it to one side. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Take a seat."

She glanced around the room. "Is this a secure area?"

"Yes," he replied confidently.

"Do you mind if I add a little security of my own?" she asked, taking out her wand. "It might make your electrical settings go a bit strange; magic and muggle technology doesn't always get on."

Fury waved his hand dismissively. "Go ahead."

Hermione muttered a few choice spells, while Fury watched in fascination as little bursts of light hit various points in his office. "There, done," she announced, taking the seat that had been offered. "Now, firstly, I need to know who is aware of the truth about me."

"I'm the only one who knows about you personally," he replied. "But there are the agents who sent me the intel on your kind."

"They won't be an issue?"

"No," Fury replied flatly. "They're both dead."

"What!" Hermione gasped.

"An occupational hazard when you specialize in recon."

"I, I see," she stammered, somewhat shocked at his matter of fact tone. "Is there anyone else?"

"The World Security Council were made aware of unexplained happenings in the UK, but as we were unable to find any more intelligence or contact anyone on your side, that was as much as they were told."

"And who exactly are the World Security Council?"

"An international organization with many aims," he replied vaguely. "But they're the people I answer to."

"And will you have to tell them about me?" Hermione asked nervously.

"I'll tell them your cover story."

"But not the truth?" she enquired. "Why not?"

"Honestly, Granger? I expect that would only make things a hell of a lot worse for us both."

"Oh," she said in surprise. "You're showing an awful lot of faith in me considering we only met a few days ago."

"It's a gut feeling," Fury shrugged. "And your reference wasn't too bad, either."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What reference?"

"You didn't know anything about it?" he asked but she shook her head. "I would show it to you but it burst into flames about ten seconds after I read it. It was initialled with the letters KS. Does they mean anything to you?"

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded. She was surprised that Kingsley would take the risk in sending something directly to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Well, whoever they were, they gave about as much away as _you_ normally do, so don't worry about anything specific being divulged. It was more a summary of your qualities and achievements; loyal, trustworthy, resourceful, diligent." Hermione could feel her cheeks reddening as Fury reeled off the list from memory. "Brightest of your kind for about fifty years and experienced in dangerous situations from a young age," he finished. "Just how young are we talking here?"

She tensed, as she nearly always did when he asked her a question, but she reasoned that it wasn't a potentially perilous answer. "Twelve."

Fury nodded slowly. "Wanna give me any details?"

"Nope," she replied shortly. She almost felt bad that she was leaving him in the dark so much, but there really wasn't a need for him to know about the past. Voldemort was gone, as had a vast majority of his Death Eaters. The wizarding world was not a threat to muggles and that's all the Director needed to know for now. "If there's something that I believe you should be made aware of then, believe me, I'll tell you. I'll help you to save lives, I'll lend you a bit of magical assistance in terms of healing and defence but the sources of that knowledge will not pass my lips under any circumstances. If I find that you've attempted to use anything magic-related without my approval, then I'll make sure that you and everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D never know you've even heard of me. And believe me when I say that's entirely possible."

Fury scowled slightly. "That won't be necessary; I'll make sure of it."

Hermione nodded. "Good. And in terms of your secrets, how much am I allowed to know?"

"The majority of newly qualified agents would start with Level One clearance," Fury told her, but he shrugged his shoulders. "As we've already established, you're _not_ in the majority. Given what you know about New Mexico and key S.H.I.E.L.D locations, I would say that will easily qualify you for Level Four – _if_ you gain 'Agent' status, that is. If I move you too high, too fast, it'll raise questions that neither of us will want to answer."

Hermione thought that sounded reasonable given how recently they had started working together. She didn't doubt that she was going to be attracting attention to herself but there had to be a sensible way to go about it. "Thank you. And can I ask exactly what you have planned for me in the coming weeks?"

He appraised her with his single eye. "How do you feel about hard work?"

She felt her lips twitch into a smile and a slight pulse of excitement tingled along her nerves. "There's nothing I love better."

* * *

"Sir, Miss Potts is approaching," J.A.R.V.I.S announced, causing Tony to glance up from where he was working.

"You know, I'm not sure I'm ever going to believe you when you say that anymore," he replied, recalling yesterday's strange incident.

Pepper (or who he assumed was Pepper) walked into the lab carrying what looked suspiciously like a large, white box for a cake. "Hi," she greeted with a smile. "Someone left this outside for you."

"What and you just carried it in?" Tony asked in surprise. "What if there's a bomb in there or something?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "No one's going to leave a bomb on your doorstep."

"How do you know? Have you opened it?" he retorted.

"No, it's addressed to you," she replied, handing him an envelope that had been resting on top. "Maybe the bomb's in there instead," she joked.

If there hadn't been a number of threats to his life in the last couple of years, Tony would've opened the letter and box without fear, but it was better to be safe than have your hands blown off. "J.A.R.V.I.S scan the box and envelope," he ordered.

"The box contains a chocolate cake with the word 'sorry' iced on top," J.A.R.V.I.S answered.

"Sorry?" Pepper repeated with a frown. "Since when has someone had to apologise to you and not the other way round?"

Tony was about to make a witty reply but the envelope started quivering in his hands. He dropped it in surprise and moved backwards a couple of steps, dragging Pepper with him. The envelope raised itself off the floor and floated in mid-air in front of them, showing the reverse side. A couple of slits formed where the final flap had been folded, to become what looked very much like a pair of eyes, and a small wax seal had formed into lips.

Tony hadn't been this perplexed since… yesterday. He scowled as a voice with an English-accent radiated from the envelope.

"Good evening, Mr Stark. I wanted to apologise for the events of yesterday evening. I would never normally enter someone else's home uninvited, particularly under a false identity, but I had a point to prove to the Director. I would like to reassure you that, despite me impersonating someone close to you and dismantling your Iron Man suit, I mean you no harm. Please accept the cake as an apology and a gesture of goodwill. I hope that, should we ever meet in the future, it will be on good terms." This astonishing speech was followed by the envelope bursting in to flames… of course.

Pepper turned to him with an accusatory stare. "So, I guess there's something you've neglected to tell me."

Tony glared at the small pile of ash on his floor. He wasn't feeling in a particularly forgiving mood at that moment.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Much love to you all!

* * *

Natasha looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Fury wants to see you, too?" she asked of Coulson. He nodded amiably in response as he came to stand next to her in one of the Triskelion's many training rooms, which was empty apart from themselves. "Any idea what this is about?"

"Considering the unusual events of the last couple of weeks, I wouldn't feel confident in making a prediction," he replied in an amused tone.

A door opened to their far right and Director Fury entered, followed by a slender young woman that Natasha didn't recognise.

"Ah, this should be interesting," Coulson muttered.

"You know her?" Natasha asked.

"We've met three or four times," he replied simply, "but I can honestly say that what I know about her barely scratches the surface."

Intrigued, Natasha turned back to the newcomer. The girl looked fairly ordinary: light brown, shoulder length hair, a pretty, delicate face. She wore a simple pair of black, cotton pants and a cream blouse with a light, silver scarf draped around her neck. She showed a couple of hints of nervousness but, on the whole, seemed quite comfortable in Fury's presence and that was quite telling. If you observed the Director walk amongst any S.H.I.E.L.D. employees, you would witness a lot of anxious men and women dreading that he should find anything he disapproved of. He was their boss, after all; one of the most powerful men in the world. Either this young woman wasn't aware of Fury's job description (which was unlikely considering that she was at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters), or it simply didn't intimidate her.

"Agent Coulson, Agent Romanoff," Fury greeted when they were a few feet away. "I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s latest recruit."

Coulson walked forward eagerly with his arm outstretched. "Great to have you on board, Miss Granger. I'm looking forward to seeing what other surprises you've got in store."

The girl, Granger, shook his hand with a warm smile while Natasha tried not to look too curious about Coulson's words.

"Natasha Romanoff," she introduced herself, settling for a nod of the head instead of a handshake.

"Agent Romanoff is up there with the best operatives S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever seen," Fury told Granger. Some people might feel embarrassed or smug to receive such praise, but Natasha knew that the Director was just stating a fact. "That's why she and Coulson are the ones that are going to train you."

Three mildly surprised expressions focused in on Nick Fury.

"The whole package?" Coulson asked.

"Yep," Fury replied. "And accelerated too. There's no point in keeping someone with your talents under wraps for long," he said to Granger, "not when you could make such a difference."

Natasha appraised Granger again. Both Coulson and the Director seemed impressed by her but, from the outside, Natasha could see nothing that would indicate any extraordinary skills.

"I hope I can live up to your expectations, Director," Granger said, her accent unmistakeably English.

Natasha cleared her throat. "Sir, if I might have a word with you in private?"

Fury's lips pulled down slightly but he indicated that she walk with him, away from Granger and Coulson. When they were out of immediate earshot, he said, "Speak, Agent."

"With all due respect, sir, I think I've been miss-assigned for this task," Natasha stated as diplomatically as she could. "As you said, I am one of your top agents, but I'm _not_ a teacher."

"You are now," Fury replied, leaving no room for argument.

"Yes, sir," she responded instinctively, masking her disappointment at being landed with Granger. It was nothing personal against the girl but Natasha had never pictured herself in the nurturing, mentor role – her skills were much better suited to field work.

"And with all due respect to _you_, Agent Romanoff, you have no idea what I've dropped at your feet," the Director pointed out, sounding somewhat amused. Natasha watched in surprise as Fury removed a gun from inside his leather coat and turned around to train it at Granger, who was talking amiably to Coulson. "Think fast, Granger," he called to get her attention.

Natasha saw the girl's eyes widen in shock before two loud cracks echoed around the room and Granger was nowhere to be seen! Natasha gasped and Coulson looked quite stunned from where he had thrown himself to the floor, but his eyes were looking at Fury rather than the spot from where Granger had disappeared.

"A little more notice next time would be appreciated," an understandably irked voice came from behind them. Natasha spun around to find Granger looking remarkably composed for someone who had travelled across the room in the blink of an eye.

"I was trying to make a point," Fury explained, not sounding particularly apologetic.

Granger frowned. "And did you?"

Fury raised an enquiring eyebrow at Natasha.

"Point made," she conceded. Being able to move like that was a huge advantage in their line of work and Natasha was eager to know how Granger did it. However, if Fury wanted herself and Coulson to know, then she trusted that he would tell them; there seemed little point in asking.

"As much as I love being utterly clueless about everything to do with you," Coulson announced, getting to his feet and straightening his clothes, "It might be useful to have a bit of background information if we're going to be working so closely together."

Natasha almost smiled at Coulson's contradiction to her thoughts but paid close attention, keen as she was to know the answers too.

Granger shrugged, seemingly at ease. "What do you want to know?"

Coulson looked slightly taken aback at her openness.

"How were you able to travel like that across this room?" Natasha asked. "Was it technology, medical experimentation - "

"Genetics," she interrupted. "I was born with my abilities; like my mother and her mother before her, and so on and so on for as long as we can trace."

Natasha frowned. "Abili_ties_? What else can you do?"

"As arrogant as it sounds, I think the better question might be; what _can't_ I do?" Granger said as she withdrew a long thin stick from the sleeve of her blouse. "Over the generations, we have found ways to use our gift to achieve many different tasks."

The way she held the stick in her grasp strongly brought an image to Natasha's mind that seemed almost preposterous.

"This might seem like a stupid question," Coulson began, focused on the stick too, "but is that a _wand_?"

Granger smiled and nodded.

"A _magic_ wand?" Natasha asked dryly, folding her arms. Yes, she was right, this was absurd.

"The fairy tale stories had to originate from somewhere, didn't they?" Granger explained, waving her wand and making a large, red settee appear behind her. A couple more flicks and a second settee, a coffee table and a tray of tea things materialised into existence too. Granger seated herself, pouring out a cup of amber liquid and was quickly joined by the Director. Natasha and Coulson sat rather more tentatively, running their hands over the fabric. It felt as real as any piece of furniture Natasha had ever sat on, which was somewhat alarming. "My mother and grandmother always told me that, despite our gift, the best remedy for shock is a cup of tea," Granger said calmly, handing a mug to the Director, as though conjuring tea out of thin air was something completely ordinary. She raised the silver teapot in their direction.

"Why not?" Coulson said eagerly. "I want to know what magic tea tastes like."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Agent Coulson, but there's nothing magical about the tea itself, it was just brought here by magical means," Granger told him, passing him a cream-coloured ceramic cup.

"I'll pass," Natasha muttered when Granger looked her way, and the girl set the teapot down gently.

If the reason behind Granger's unique gifts truly was genetics, Natasha wondered if samples of her DNA were even now being experimented on. Any government in the world would pay billions to create their own genetic super-humans. Granger seemed like a pleasant girl, possibly too nice for the world of S.H.I.E.L.D, but there was the possibility that someone with her abilities could use them for less savoury means than a cup of tea. She was an asset, yes, incredibly so, but just like Stark's technology or Banner's serum, if she fell into the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic.

"I got in contact with the Director after I saw what happened in New York the last few days," Granger explained after a small sip of tea. "Most of the time my family have been more than happy to keep our secrets to ourselves, but we have a long tradition of offering our assistance when we feel it is particularly needed." She frowned, obviously not happy with her wording and quickly added, "Not that S.H.I.E.L.D. can't cope without me or anything, it just feels like our world is going through a transition and, from what I've read, those can be the most dangerous of times." She blushed slightly at her gabbling and took another sip of tea.

_Too nice_, Natasha thought again.

"You have no siblings?" Coulson asked, sounding slightly disappointed.

Granger shook her head. "Only child. That tradition has been around as long as our gift; one child, and it's always a girl."

"Sure makes decorating the bedroom before the baby arrives a lot simpler," the Director joked, setting his empty mug on the table. "Anyway, for now, you're the only ones who know about Miss Granger. There's no way we can keep this a secret once she's out on assignment but, to avoid her training sessions becoming like a zoo exhibition, the magic is classified; no one need know we have a sorceress in S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Sorceress? Is that the official term?" Natasha asked.

"That's what we've always used," Granger replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"And it will also serve as her codename for the foreseeable future," Fury said, getting to his feet. "I expect to have your initial assessments by the end of the day. Thanks for the tea, Granger."

"You're welcome, sir," she replied as they watched the Director walk away. Then she turned to her new trainers, excitement on her face. "So, where do we start?"

* * *

Hermione collapsed into her bed, somewhat embarrassed that it was only 6pm here on the East Coast. In London it was eleven pm, which was a more reasonable bedtime, but she hadn't really had much time to get her body used to her new surroundings – not to mention that she'd had a pretty full-on day.

The cover story seemed to have been accepted by Coulson and Romanoff, which was a huge relief. She grimaced at the number of lies she'd told them but that was a feeling she'd have to get used to if she was going to be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s operations. However, if her trainers' expressions were anything to go by, she doubted she'd be seeing any active work for a while now. Sure, her magic was extremely helpful, but she was severely lacking in a lot of other basic areas. Her technological skills were almost non-existent, something that Coulson called a rarity for someone of her age in these times. She had no experience of driving – though she had been tempted to say she could fly a broomstick, just to see the looks on their faces.

She _did_ have experience in surveillance and disguise thanks to her, Harry and Ron's infiltrations of the Ministry and Gringotts (not that she could tell them any of that) but she'd be the first to admit that they'd got away with those break-ins by the skin of the their teeth! Some professional insight would be very useful. Hermione had been very happy to learn everything she could, at least until they'd turned their attention to weapons and hand-to-hand combat. Again, she had to lie about her experience, by telling them that any offensive and defensive spells she had cast had been done so for practice purposes only.

"Is there a killing spell?" Romanoff had asked bluntly.

"Yes," Hermione replied, feeling uneasy.

"And would you use it?" the Agent continued.

"No, of course not!" Hermione objected. She couldn't tell how Agent Romanoff felt about that answer.

"All right, let's pretend that your position has been compromised and this man," Romanoff indicated Coulson, "is about to shoot you. What do you do?"

"Do you want me to tell you or show you?" Hermione asked, looking between the two of them.

"Will it hurt?" Coulson asked.

"No."

"Then do it," he insisted.

Hermione ignored the guilty sensation of attacking an unarmed muggle, and sent a non-verbal stunning spell his way. The red light hit him in the chest and he crumpled to the floor.

Romanoff walked over to him to check his vitals.

"It's called a stunning spell," Hermione explained. "He'll wake up naturally in a few minutes or I can revive him myself."

"You can wake people from unconsciousness?"

Hermione crouched next to Coulson too. "Yes, if it was brought about magically. Otherwise it's safer not to, in case the brain's not ready. _Ennervate_."

The serene expression on Coulson's face became creased then he opened his eyes. "Well, that seems a pretty good method to start with," he muttered, sitting up. "I take it you've got other tricks up your sleeve?"

Hermione nodded.

"That's all well and good, but what if you drop your wand or it breaks and you can't cast any spells?" Natasha queried. "What will you do then?"

Hermione twisted her body and disapparated to the other side of the room. "I don't need my wand to do that."

They surveyed her for a moment and then Coulson got to his feet. "Can you do that if someone's holding on to you, pinning you down?"

"No," Hermione admitted with a small shake of her head. "They'd be carried with me wherever I went. But that's obviously a benefit if I _wanted_ to move someone."

"You can teleport others at the same time?" Romanoff asked, sounding surprised.

"It's called, 'apparating'," Hermione corrected as she jogged back over to them. "And yes. Do you want to try it?"

"Sure," Coulson agreed eagerly but Romanoff looked less keen.

"Just across the room?" she checked.

"Okay," Hermione agreed. "Just to warn you, it'll feel uncomfortable, like you're being squeezed, but it's not painful." She took each agent by the hand, concentrating hard – it had been a while since she'd apparated with two people alongside her.

"All right, I'll admit that was pretty incredible," Romanoff gasped when they reappeared on the other side of the room. "But you're going to need the hand-to-hand training nonetheless – your powers don't make you invincible."

Hermione had agreed, though she doubted that she'd be much good at physically fighting anyone. What she'd been less keen on, was Romanoff's suggestion that she learn to handle different weapons.

"It's our job to make sure that you are prepared for any situation," Coulson had explained. "I know guns, knives and explosives can sound scary, but it would be more dangerous if we didn't teach you about those things and let you come across them on assignment. We're not training you to be a killer; we're training you to _survive_."

Hermione wanted to believe him.

She forced herself into a sitting position and took an electrical report from her bedside table. There was no point in going to sleep already, so she thought it a good idea to start doing the background reading into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history that Fury had given her access to.

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve," she read out loud, rubbing her eyes. "Sounds interesting."

* * *

A/N: When my sister read this chapter she said that Gamp's Law meant that Hermione can't magic up food or drink. I think Gamp's Law is inconsistent with other things we've seen in the books/films, especially as I'm sure Dumbledore conjured up tea things too at some point! That doesn't mean that Hermione's going to go crazy and solve world hunger and droughts, she just wanted a cup of tea!

Next time: Tony and Hermione have an actual conversation...


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry I didn't get round to responding to your reviews this time, guys! Judging by what most of you said, I've just about got away with the tea if we all assume that she had it all set up ready to go elsewhere. Also, a couple of you mentioned possible pairings for Hermione (even though she's already with Ron!). There's no pairing listed in the details of this fic but in a future story... who knows ;) Thank you for all your lovely words and support so far.

* * *

Coulson managed to avoid wincing at the audible crack that came from somewhere amidst the tangle of limbs that was Agent Romanoff and Hermione. A hiss came from Hermione's lips and her body became limp as she mentally disengaged from the fight.

"What are you doing?" Natasha muttered, sweeping her red hair away from her eyes.

"I think you broke my finger," Hermione replied through gritted teeth. She got to her feet, cradling her left hand to her chest protectively.

"So?" Natasha queried, still crouched in a semi-defensive position.

Hermione walked over to where she'd put her wand for safe-keeping and tapped the broken digit with it. "It hurt. Besides, I needed to fix it before it got more damaged," she explained. Coulson added her ability to fix broken bones to his ever-growing mental list of her powers.

"Are you kidding me?" Natasha stood, crossing her arms across her chest. "You think your opponent's going to stop mid-fight to let you patch yourself up?"

"No, but – "

"But, nothing," Romanoff snapped. "Bones break, muscles tear, skin rips and bleeds. Get used to it, Granger, that's why we're doing this; so you know how to handle it when it happens for real."

Hermione nodded solemnly and put her wand back down. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry, I need you to re-break your finger so that we can carry on where you left off," Natasha instructed coldly.

Hermione blinked in surprise and looked over in his direction, but he held up his hands. "She's the expert in combat, not me."

The girl took a deep breath through her nostrils and picked up her wand, before holding it against the same finger. There was another small crack as the bone broke again, but a small shudder was the only sign Hermione showed at the pain.

"Good," Romanoff said, "now I'll show you how to try and avoid impact to damaged parts of your body during combat."

By the time the session was finished twenty minutes later, a couple of tear tracks lined Hermione's cheeks but she hadn't raised a single objection.

"Fix yourself up," Natasha ordered. "We'll look at the case study in Phnom Penh in ten minutes." Hermione nodded and turned away. Coulson nudged Natasha with his shoulder and she rolled her eyes at him. "You did well," she called after Granger's retreating figure.

The girl paused and looked over her shoulder. "Thank you," she mumbled, before continuing on.

Natasha shot him a disapproving look. "I'm not being too hard," she insisted. "My training was ten times worse than hers. If _I'd_ tried to pull out mid-fight I would've had to be peeled off of the floor by the end of it."

"Hermione's not you," Coulson reminded her.

"Exactly. That's why I only broke her finger and not a rib," Natasha retorted, taking a swig of water. "I won't deny that she's a hard worker but she needs to toughen up if she's going to survive in our sort of world. Whatever Fury's got planned for her, it's not going to be sunshine and daisies."

Coulson glanced up at Hermione. She seemed to have a bit more colour in her cheeks and she kept flexing the fingers on her left wrist. She was reading some sort of report while waiting for their next session to start. He wasn't particularly surprised. Whenever there was a free moment from training, she had her eyes glued to some book or tablet researching God knew what. Her appetite for absorbing information was coming in good use in her training sessions though. She had memorised dozens of case studies from S.H.I.E.L.D's past, was picking up all the technical terms and acronyms that they used, had vastly improved her computing skills and could recognise an increasing number of weapons and devices. She was also a couple of days away from being given a S.H.I.E.L.D-issued driving permit. Not bad for just a couple of weeks.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Coulson," he greeted, bringing the phone swiftly to his hear.

"Agent Coulson? It's Pepper, Pepper Potts."

Coulson raised his index finger to Romanoff, indicating he would be gone for a moment, then he turned to leave. "What can I do for you, Ms Potts? I hope nothing's amiss."

"No, not really," Pepper's voice replied. "Well, not majorly. It's not an emergency or anything. It's, um, well, it's complicated because I'm not really supposed to know."

"Ms Potts," Phil prompted, at a bit of a loss as to what she was talking about.

"It's that girl," she admitted, "the one who broke into Tony's workshop and ruined his suit."

Coulson paused. Should he deny any knowledge of that? Hermione's existence was still more or less classified, after all.

"What about her?" he asked, hoping that his instincts about Pepper being trustworthy weren't wrong.

"Well, ever since she vanished out of his workshop, he hasn't been quite the same."

"In what way?"

"He's confused, easily irritated and spending inordinate amounts of time working on secret projects," Pepper explained, her voice becoming slightly emotional. "He won't admit that she's gotten under his skin but I know that she's the cause."

Coulson frowned. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Maybe give Tony more information about her or how she does those impossible things?" Pepper asked hopefully. "I know that he's tried to trace her, but he knows next to nothing about her except that she's had dealings with S.H.I.E.L.D. Could you give me an address, telephone number, contact or anything?"

"I'm sorry, Ms Potts but you know that I can't. That's not my decision to make," he admitted.

Pepper sighed. "No, I understand."

"But I will forward your requests to the right person and see what I can do," he offered. He knew full well what an asshole Tony Stark could be when he was in a _good_ mood, let alone when he was unhappy.

"_Really?_ Thank you, Agent Coulson, you have no idea how grateful I am."

"No problem, Ms Potts. I'll be in touch."

Phil ended the call with a sigh. He'd told Pepper that he'd go to the 'right person', but did that mean going to the Director or Granger, herself?

* * *

"How's the finger?" Fury asked when he entered Hermione's apartment that evening.

She frowned slightly. "You heard about that?"

"Romanoff makes you break your own finger? Of course I heard about that," he scoffed. "Just be glad it wasn't your leg."

Granger shrugged. "Don't worry, I think that's what she has planned for next lesson." Fury laughed, though he couldn't be entirely sure whether she meant it as a joke or not. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"We've had a request for information about you," he told her.

"From whom?" she asked, looking surprised.

"Pepper Potts, on behalf of Tony Stark," he explained.

"Oh," her eyes widened and she bit her lip. "Well, I can understand that. I did drop a few bombshells on him before I disapparated."

"True," he agreed. "But I don't know if Stark's ready for the truth yet. Well, our version of the truth, anyway. Coulson and Romanoff already knew about the events in New Mexico before they met you and I think that eased their shock at finding out about magic. Stark, though. Who knows how he'll react?"

"Perhaps he'll be relieved," she suggested. "I know that if someone offered me a solution to a problem that I couldn't comprehend, I would glad. It certainly calmed me when I found out that all the strange things I could do were due to magic."

Fury considered her thoughtfully. So she hadn't always been aware that she was a witch? That was another interesting piece to add to the puzzle.

"All right," he conceded. Secretly, he was glad. If his Avengers plan was ever to come to fruition, he needed the people involved to at least partially get along. If Coulson's description of Stark's mood after Granger had left his lab was at all accurate, then Fury knew that she was definitely not Stark's favourite person. "We'll set up a meeting; just you and Stark."

"You don't think he would show more caution if there were normal civilians present, like in a café or bar?" she suggested.

Fury let out a bark of laughter. "He doesn't know the meaning of the word 'caution'," he claimed. "And you'd be hard pressed to take Stark anywhere without him instantly being recognised. You wouldn't get a second of privacy. Don't worry," he added, seeing the frown on her face. "We'll find the right place. The most important thing is that Stark comes away from the meeting with a more positive opinion of you. It'll make things easier in the future."

"Why? What's going to happen in the future?" she asked curiously.

Fury shrugged. "How the hell should I know?"

* * *

"Hermione," Pepper repeated with a soft smile. "That's a pretty name."

"Thank you, Ms Potts," she replied, feeling somewhat awkward after their previous meeting. "I'd just like to apologise again for wasting your time when I was here last and, er, borrowing your identity."

Pepper waved her hand. "And I told you that your apology was accepted. As long as you don't do it again, I'll try to forget it ever happened. Now, please, call me Pepper."

Hermione nodded, taking the seat in Pepper's office that was being indicated. "Of course, Pepper. Agent Coulson sends his regards. He would have liked to have come too but he was required in Fayetteville."

"That's a pity," Pepper replied, leaning slightly against her desk. "I definitely owe him a favour for getting in contact with you; Tony's been driving me absolutely crazy. Oh, he'll be along in a minute," she added, seeing a curious expression on Hermione's face.

Hermione felt Pepper's heavy gaze trying to figure her out. "I guess I left him a bit perplexed."

"Just a little," Pepper agreed with a raised eyebrow. "Although he tried to keep it to himself at first. Your cake and floating message kind of let the cat out of the bag."

"Ah," Hermione said. "Yes, that probably wasn't my cleverest idea. I just know that sometimes the written word can be misinterpreted much more easily than if someone is speaking. I didn't want Mr Stark to think I was mocking him."

Pepper laughed. "That's very sweet of you but it just goes to show how different you and Tony are; mockery is his natural conversational tone."

Hermione smiled. "So I've heard."

The office door was opened with a flourish and Pepper rose quickly to meet Tony at the door. "Hey," he greeted, drawing out the word when he caught sight of Hermione. He looked rather shocked to see her there.

"Tony, this is Hermione," Pepper introduced hurriedly. "Have a nice chat." Then to both Hermione and Tony's surprise she darted out of the room and closed the door, the lock clicking behind her.

"I take it you didn't know about this," Hermione said, getting to her feet.

"Oh, no, this is the face of a man who knew he was going to be having a meeting with an impossible girl," Tony replied dryly. "And I assume that is your _actual_ face and not another identity that you've stolen."

She flushed at his words. "No, Mr Stark, this is me, Hermione Granger." He stared at her for a while but she met his gaze, determined to show that, although she was apologetic, she wasn't intimidated by him. "I was given to understand that you might have some questions about what happened when we last met."

He cast his gaze around the room, as though thinking, before returning it back to her. "Nope."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly. "Is that so?"

"Quite _so_," he replied mocking. "_So,_ if you could kindly be on your way – I'm sure a locked door isn't too much trouble for you."

She wasn't sure if he was trying to save face because he believed her to be technologically capable of things he was unable to, or he was just being stubborn, but she hadn't come all this way for him to just dismiss her. Besides, Fury and Pepper were counting on her to make the situation better. "You don't want to know how I can do this, then?" she asked, apparating to the other side of the office.

"Kid, let me give you a bit of advice if you want to make it in this world," he offered patronizingly. "Don't share your secrets with your rivals; there's no honour amongst entrepreneurs."

"But I'm not your rival," she insisted, "and I'm certainly not an entrepreneur." He didn't look particularly convinced. "Mr Stark, S.H.I.E.L.D. have given me my own codename and it's actually completely accurate." She paused and took out her wand from her inside jacket. "It's _Sorceress_."

He looked between her face and the wand a couple of times. "Pepper!" Tony called, banging on the door. "You've locked me in with a crazy person!"

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes at his dramatics. "I understand that magic is a difficult concept to take in, Mr Stark, but I assure you that I'm telling the truth. Here," she picked up a glass paper weight from Pepper's desk and, after a couple of seconds of concentration, transfigured it into a white, fluffy kitten. When she held it out to him he backed away holding his hands up.

"Ah, no. I don't like to be handed things as a general rule," he explained. Hermione couldn't hide her disdain this time as she placed the small kitten next to his feet. "Especially pieces of glass that now have fur," he scooped it up and it let out a high-pitched squeak. "And make cute noises."

"Can you feel that heartbeat?" she asked. "The way its chest moves in and out as it breathes? How do you explain that?"

Tony looked musingly at the little cat in his hand. "Am I on drugs? Did someone lace my coffee with LSD? Or am I just dreaming?"

"My ability lies in a genetic mutation," she explained, trying to put her magic cover story into a context that he'd understand. "It's passed from the women in my family from one generation to the next. I'm not a scientist but I believe it's something to do with the mito-"

"-Mitochondrial DNA," he interrupted, handing the kitten back. "That makes sense if it passes from mother to child. But it only goes to daughters?"

Hermione shrugged, the lies rolling off of her tongue almost easily now. "There has never been a male child in our lineage; only one girl child per mother." She tapped the kitten with her wand, returning it to its previous glass structure.

"Shame, I liked Barry," he said, indicating the paper weight.

"Barry?"

"That was his name. Well, the name I gave him."

"It was a girl," Hermione pointed out.

"And?"

She shook her head. "I thought you'd be a bit more interested in the magic."

"Right, yes, magic." He rubbed his hands together then paused. "Your stick-"

"Wand," she corrected.

"Really? Isn't that a bit of a cliché?"

"Where do you think the cliché came from in the first place?"

"Hmm, fair point. OK, your wand, what's it made of?"

"Wood."

"And?" he prompted. "It's not just a random twig you picked up, is it?"

"The wand is an heirloom, Mr Stark. Family legend goes that at its core lies a substance with magical properties but, funnily enough, I've never been tempted to crack it open to find out."

"J.A.R.V.I.S could do it for you," he claimed.

"I would be surprised," she replied. "Magic and technology don't tend to mix too well." She wasn't entirely comfortable with letting Stark use his equipment to see the inner workings of her magic. Yes, she was always seeking to gain a greater understanding of her abilities so that she could adapt it and test herself even further. The problem was that she didn't trust muggles with that knowledge, and especially not Tony Stark.

"That explains why he couldn't give me anything about you last time. Well, there's only one way to find out for sure," he offered.

"You warned me not to share my secrets," she reminded him.

"You said we're not rivals."

"I'd like to think that we're not," she replied truthfully. "But you must understand the potential of the magic. It hasn't been studied like that before and – "

"And you think I'm going to use it to my own advantage?"

"I don't think there's any question about that, is there?" she pointed out.

"Should I be offended?"

"No, I was being honest," she replied. "It seems to me that you like to experiment with the cutting edge of technology and magic is as close to that edge as you can go. I'm worried about what would happen if that knowledge fell into the wrong hands. I believe you know better than most what the consequences are."

"Are you talking about the Ten Rings, Obadiah Stone, Ivan Vanko or Hammer Industries?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow to reinforce her argument. "OK, I get your point, but don't you just want to _see_ if J.A.R.V.I.S. can detect anything?"

Hermione bit her lip, deliberating. "All right," she sighed, hoping that she wasn't making a big mistake. "But we might as well go my way, it'll be quicker."

"You can take me too?" he asked in surprise.

Hermione reached out for his hand. "Yes. Ready?"

"I know that I'm a very attractive man, but if this is just an excuse to touch me-"

"It would be quite easy for me to leave a piece of you behind," she warned.

"Wow, hit a nerve." Hermione glared at him and he took her hand. "Okay, I'm shutting up now."

She closed her eyes to focus on Tony's workshop; the last thing she needed was to make a mistake when apparating a man with an arc reactor in his chest. When the familiar squeezing sensation was over, she looked over at Tony to check he was all right, but apart from a slightly stupefied expression on his face, he seemed to be fine.

"Good afternoon, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. greeted. "I wasn't expecting such a sudden arrival from you."

"Pretty cool, right?" Tony replied, before turning to Hermione. "Although it makes my security settings absolutely void where you're concerned. You ever considered a career as a bank robber?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not my style. I don't use magic for personal gain."

"Tell that to the Mark 3," Tony objected, pointing to his repaired suit.

"That was different," she said defensively. "You were threatening me."

"So in England you offer people who break into your home a cup of tea, do you?"

"Yes, and a slice of cake," she replied, not missing a beat.

He nodded. "You're growing on me, kid."

"My name's Hermione."

"That's too many syllables," he claimed, walking over to one of his screens. "Stand over there and hold out the wand." She did as instructed as he started his scan. "I work better with two syllables: Tony, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey… How about Hermy, instead?"

"Absolutely not!" she insisted. "Use my surname, Granger."

"Granger," he repeated. "I can cope with that. J.A.R.V.I.S what have you got?"

"The object in Ms Granger's hand has an outer casing of vinewood," J.A.R.V.I.S began, showing the results on the screens. Tony expanded the image and waved his hand to get rid of the wood and see inside. A line of muted pink glistened before their eyes. Hermione knew it was the dragon heartstring core but she wasn't about to impart that knowledge on him. "The interior is emitting an interference that I cannot bypass, sir, but it seems to have a biological composition."

"What species?" Tony asked, rotating the image.

"Unknown," J.A.R.V.I.S replied, "Though it seems to be related to the reptile family."

Tony cocked his head. "Reptile, interesting, and what about Granger, you picking up anything odd about her?"

Hermione started. "Don't you dare, Stark! J.A.R.V.I.S, I do not give my consent!"

"He's a computer system," Tony said, giving her a disbelieving look. "He doesn't care."

"Sir, I have stopped the scan on ethical grounds," J.A.R.V.I.S announced to Hermione's relief and Tony's annoyance.

"Ethics have never stopped you before," Tony muttered.

"No one has ever objected before," J.A.R.V.I.S pointed out.

"Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S," Hermione said. "Please note that I do not give Mr Stark permission to use you to investigate me, unless otherwise stated by myself."

"Yes, Ms Granger."

"Er, what just happened here?" Tony asked angrily. "Are you Brits ganging up on me?"

"Ms Granger taught you a lesson in manners, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S announced.

"Is that right?" Tony said, looking at Hermione in annoyance. "I changed my mind again, Hermy. I _don't_ like you."

"Because you're not getting your way?" she questioned airily. Despite everything she'd ever read or seen about him, she was still taken aback by his childish behaviour. "Look, I would be reasonably happy to explore the science behind the magic with you, but there is a way to go about it. We have to work _together_ on this."

"Apparently I don't play well with others; has no one told you that?" he asked, as though she was stupid.

Hermione sighed. "I think anyone who's ever heard of you is well aware of that."

"Ouch."

"_But_,_"_ she stressed. "You haven't worked with a sorceress yet. If you start getting on my nerves or act like a jerk, I have a variety of different ways to make sure you know it."

"Oh, really, you're going to threaten me in my own – "

She cast a silencing charm at him. He jerked in surprise at his lack of speech.

"That's much better, don't you think, J.A.R.V.I.S?" she said, as Tony carried on trying to force sound out of his mouth.

"A vast improvement, Ms Granger. I think you should visit more often."

Tony glared at her and moved over to one of the work benches.

"I believe he is searching for a weapon," J.A.R.V.I.S informed her. "He is getting quite agitated."

Hermione reversed the spell.

"-cking bi-, oh." Tony looked at her in surprise but she stood calmly, waiting. "_Fine!_ We'll work together. Talk about drama queens."

"Takes one to know one, Mr Stark," she retorted.

"Touché," he muttered, dropping whatever makeshift weapon was in his hand and walking to his bar. "Want a drink? Wait – are you even old enough to drink?"

"I'll be twenty-one in September," she replied.

"So, no, basically. That's all right; I'll drink yours for you," he said, pouring himself a more than decent amount of the amber liquid. "Here's to this Stark-Granger merger, thing." He paused, as though he'd just thought of something. "To _Stranger Enterprises_!"

"That's a good name," she allowed with a smile.

He downed the whiskey in one. "Thank you, I came up with it myself."

"Well, Stranger Enterprises is going to have to be on hold for a little while; unfortunately, my schedule is a quite busy at the moment," she explained.

"S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Yes. Director Fury and I have joined forces in light of recent events and I'm getting trained up," she informed him.

"That figures," he muttered. "I bet you're not volatile or self-obsessed."

Hermione frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Tony waved a hand. "It's nothing. I'm over it. "

"Right. Well, I'd actually better be getting back," she said. "I'll be in touch, Mr Stark."

"Tony is fine," he said. "Saves you a syllable."

Hermione smiled. "OK, Tony."

"Just do me a favour, Granger," he requested, taking a seat at one of his worktables. "Don't do that popping in and out thing anymore. I don't want to worry that you might drop in on something your innocent eyes shouldn't be seeing."

"All right," she agreed, her cheeks flushing a little. "Mind if I use a window instead?"

"Knock yourself out," he shrugged. "Or actually don't, you might want to open the window before you walk out of it. Or maybe you can walk through solid glass, I don't know."

She took his advice and flicked her wand at one of the windows, making it swing open. "Bye, Tony. Bye, J.A.R.V.I.S."

Tony watched curiously as she seemed to shrink in size and then stood in alarm as feathers sprouted over her body. A second later, a small falcon stood where Hermione had been. The bird let out a chittering cry and then beat its wings to fly rapidly around the workshop, before going out of the open window.

"OK, magic's pretty awesome," he admitted.

"_Extremely_, sir."

* * *

A/N The animagus form that I decided to give Hermione is a 'Merlin Falcon'. There were quite a few reasons that I chose this animal but the name definitely helped ;-)

Next time: some slightly more serious 'Agent' business! (And a couple of familiar faces!)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Thanks for all the love! :)

* * *

Hermione apparated into her DC apartment with a quiet pop and quickly placed the items she'd taken to training back into their rightful place. She glanced at the clock and took a calming breath. There was suitable time for her to make her dinner plans with Ron back in London. She'd booked this time off weeks in advance on his request and she didn't feel guilty leaving her training early for the very first time – especially seeing as Natasha was off on assignment somewhere, Fury was reportedly in the Deep South and even Coulson had seemed distracted when they'd discussed hypothetical hostage situations (although he'd done his best to hide it).

Deciding that she had enough time to get rid of the sweat and grime from that morning's fitness session, Hermione jumped into the shower, turning the heat up high. She was so excited at the prospect of seeing Ron. Despite her assurances when she'd first received Fury's job offer that she'd journey home to see him often, she could count on one hand the number of times they'd seen each other in the last four months. She vowed to try harder as she massaged shampoo into her scalp and it was at that moment that the lights in her apartment started to flash red.

Hermione froze. "No," she moaned, "No, not now! Damn it!" Hair still dripping wet and covered in shampoo bubbles, she ducked out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself before reaching for her phone. She held the device to her ear, rather than engage in a face call, to avoid any embarrassment.

"Report to the Triskelion now," Coulson ordered. "It's time."

"And you couldn't have picked any other day?" Hermione grumbled, despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

"See you in the briefing room in five minutes, Granger," he stated, ignoring her question before hanging up.

Hermione got back into the shower with a scowl and rinsed the shampoo away. Five minutes might sound like a very short time for _most_ people to cross DC but it wasn't for a witch. When Coulson walked into the briefing room four minutes later, Hermione was already sat down, perfectly dry.

"Are you ready?" he asked, taking a seat opposite her.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out," she replied in a cooler tone than she felt. Hermione knew her final assessment was going to be coming up soon but she hadn't expected it quite yet. She tried to view it as a positive that Fury thought she had shown sufficient skill to try and qualify for 'Agent' status. "What's the brief?"

"One of our undercover agents sent an encrypted message to us," Coulson informed her. "It contained only one word; their code-word for imminent danger."

Hermione knew that this was merely a simulation to put her through her paces but it didn't stop the chill sweeping down her spine.

"That's it?" she asked in surprise. "We have no idea what form this danger takes or where it's likely to hit? Where's the agent based?"

"Moscow," he replied. "We know that this agent was infiltrating a particular organized-crime group called the Lyukhovich Gang."

Hermione nodded, recognising the name. "A relatively recent organisation," she recalled, "made up from the remnants of three previous Russian gangs. The last S.H.I.E.L.D. report I read on the Lyukhovich Gang highlighted the possibility of them expanding their business to the States, but that was over two months ago."

"Our latest intel has shown they have established operations in Chicago," Coulson explained, handing over an electronic tablet with the relevant files. Hermione skimmed through its contents, taking in the photographs, legal documents and statements, her mind thinking rapidly.

"I don't speak Russian," she pointed out. Languages were her great weakness as a potential agent. She had a good understanding of magical ancient runes but, unfortunately, that had yet to be of any use to her in her work with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"That shouldn't be a problem," he reassured, causing her to re-evaluate the likely course of action. She looked again at the properties and businesses suspected of being part of the Lyukhovich's organisation. The first one they'd bought was a dairy business situated north of downtown Chicago. Its reasonably isolated situation was good for hiding dirty dealings but it didn't strike her as the type of place for a Russian gang's State-side headquarters. She went through the list again, pausing at a trio of buildings that were purchased within hours of each other, cross referencing these with other documents citing structural changes and photo surveillance of the locations.

"Isn't a gang-owned nightclub a bit of a cliché?" she asked, looking at the converted warehouse on the bank of the Chicago River.

"The sorceress who has a wand and brews potions wants to talk clichés?" Coulson retorted and Hermione cocked her head, conceding the point. "Besides, there are a number of advantages to owning a club, as I'm sure you're more than aware."

"I wouldn't have been trained very well if I wasn't," she pointed out, making Coulson chuckle slightly before they refocused. "Do we have schematics or photos of the inside since it's been refurbished?"

"No," he replied shortly.

Hermione frowned and looked back at the most recent image of the exterior of the nightclub, eyes scanning for something to assist her. She zoomed in on the picture and pointed at the security camera that was watching the people in the queue. "Looks like it's time for some hacking then."

Coulson stood and indicated the door, "After you."

* * *

Fifty-two minutes later, Hermione was standing outside 'Siren' nightclub and surveying the scene with her own eyes. It was still a few hours away from dusk and she was having a hard time stopping herself from apparating straight inside to find the information she needed. It hadn't taken her long to gain access to the club's security cameras to give herself a mental image of the building's layout. Coulson was back at the Triskelion being her extra set of eyes and ears. They had footage of every room in the club but one, and they'd figured that that was the room she needed to gain access to.

Although the club wasn't open for business, there was still much activity inside as the entertainers rehearsed their routines and supplies were unloaded from a van. She was thankful that it was still only late afternoon, because trying to negotiate her way through throngs of people in a busy club, whilst underneath the invisibility cloak, would be a nightmare. However, this more general hubbub suited her perfectly, for there was less chance of the gang identifying that someone with abnormal capabilities was around when there were plenty of others to suspect of treachery. Despite the Ministry-loaned invisibility cloak and the disillusionment charm she'd placed upon herself, she was still disguised as one of the dancing troupe members to buy her more time should she be discovered. Suffice to say, she was very glad that no one could actually see her in the revealing outfit and absurdly glamourous hair and make-up. At least she'd only charmed her shoes to look like gaudy, gold stilettos otherwise she'd be discovered within three minutes by falling flat on her face. Hermione honestly didn't know how Natasha managed to be fully functioning in that sort of attire!

She wished Romanoff was with her now, though. She was supremely grateful to have Coulson in her corner, of course, but Hermione had the feeling that Natasha would have invaluable advice for this type of scenario.

Hermione had to remind herself that this _was_ really only a scenario. The troubling thing was how genuine this all seemed. She'd read about the Lyukhovich Gang months ago and the purchases of businesses and buildings and S.H.I.E.L.D's intelligence all looked utterly real. She wondered how much of this was the S.H.I.E.L.D. set up because there was no way that Fury would send her out on a real assignment, was there? Not when there was a supposed threat of imminent danger, surely…

"Are you in position?" Coulson's voice spoke in her ear.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Your entrance is still viable," he said.

"Understood."

She kept a precautionary distance as she made her way to the left side of the building, where a lorry was delivering beer barrels. After a couple of minutes of observation, she took her chance to sneak into the building while the men were getting the next barrel.

"I'm through the entrance," she whispered as loud as she dared, for Coulson would have no idea where she was whilst under the cloak.

"Good," Coulson replied. "Now ascend the stairs and take the first turning on the left. The way is clear for the moment."

Hermione did as instructed, ever watchful for a problem, but she emerged into the main warehouse without an incident. The room she wanted to gain access to was across the floor. Stepping across to hide even further in the shadows, she watched the proceedings until she felt comfortable. The dancing troupe had changed outfits since Hermione had last seen the security footage but they were distracting the rest of the workers sufficiently enough to benefit her journey across the room.

She stopped a few metres away from her target and stood flat against the wall to lessen the risk of someone walking in to her. Two thickset men stood guard over the door. She was pretty sure she could see the outline of guns inside their jackets but their presence wasn't particularly irksome because she didn't plan on entering via the door anyway. She and Coulson had always intended for her to apparate in, but the issue was that she needed more of an idea of what lay in the room to avoid landing on anyone or bumping into anything.

She drew her wand from a holder strapped to her calf and held the tip to her forehead, eyes closed. _"Incipio_," she whispered, activating the potion she'd drunk before she left DC. When she opened her eyes, it was as though she was seeing the world through an x-ray machine. She looked over at the two henchmen again, this time clearly seeing the array of weapons lining their persons. She could see vague outlines of the room beyond them but she'd have to get closer for them to come in to focus.

"I'm approaching the door," she informed Coulson quietly.

"I'll let you know if I pick anything up," he replied.

Hermione moved forward cautiously and the contents of the room became clearer. She could make out two further skeletons, both armed. One seemed to be sat behind a desk, the other standing. The furnishings in the room gave a greater indication of the layout and she felt more confident in finding a safe apparition point. She would have to act quickly once she was inside to prevent the people from raising the alarm.

"I'm picking up two voices; one male, one female, conversing in Russian," Coulson said, which definitely fit the scenario she'd been given.

Hermione backed away from the door again, keeping a mental image of the room on the other side and the placing of the two people. She tapped her head with her wand and whispered, "_Finite!_" Her vision was back to normal and she wasted no time in apparating to her planned destination.

The man had no time to react as she appeared behind him and cast a silent stunning spell at his back. She stepped out behind him as he crumpled to the floor, in order to give the same treatment to the woman at the desk but Hermione paused in astonishment; it was Natasha.

As her mind struggled to process the sight of her co-trainer, Hermione watched, as though in slow motion, as Natasha reached for a button on the intercom on her desk. Panicked, she sent the stunner a split second before Romanoff could raise the alarm.

"What the hell, Coulson?" Hermione hissed as she grabbed Natasha's shoulder to stop her head slamming into the desk.

"What's the matter?" he responded. "Are you in the room?"

"Yes, and you know full well what the matter is." She looked around the room for an obvious place to begin her search but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"In my experience, assignments barely ever go as you expect them to," was his underwhelming explanation. "You need to be prepared for anything, even a betrayal."

Hermione swallowed thickly as she reactivated the potion. "Consider me prepared," she muttered, looking around the room with her x-ray vision. "There's a safe behind the painting," she told him, before levitating the heavy object off the wall. The need for quick work was still great, for someone could walk through that door at any moment.

"Do you need any help opening it?" he asked.

"No, it's fine." She watched as the dial spun in response to her _alohomora_ charm and then clicked open. Inside, was a large pile of cash, a few Russian passports and some legal documents. She frowned and looked around the room again; an electrical device was operating in the middle draw. No booby traps showed up on her vision but she still inched the draw forwards slowly. An electronic tablet lay inside. Hermione was familiar with the model so she pressed the activation button with bated breath. The screen flashed on, requesting a four-digit pass code and Hermione's heart sank.

She explained the situation to Coulson and he advised her to quickly check the rest of the room first so she wouldn't be wasting her time trying to bypass the code. She swept the room with her advanced sight and then again with normal vision. She checked the pockets of both Natasha and the man. He was a complete stranger to her; tall, dark-haired and (despite her rushed state, she couldn't help but notice) remarkably handsome. They had nothing useful on them but she removed the ammunition from their weapons, forgetting that they were likely filled with blanks.

"It's got to be the tablet," she told Coulson. "Unless we're in the wrong place." But Natasha's presence made her think otherwise. "Any advice on how to unlock it?"

"Check for grease marks to show areas that are frequently touched," he suggested. "They may correspond with the places of the digits."

Hermione picked up the tablet and tilted the screen to see if he was right. "There's nothing there," she said, starting to feel worried.

"I would proceed with caution, Hermione," he warned. "I highly suspect that if the wrong combination was entered, an alarm would be issued or the device would self-destruct."

"Damn," she breathed. What should she do? There was no way that Natasha or this other man would leave the passcode to the tablet lying around the office, so she had no hope of discovering it herself. She wasn't sure if it was even possible for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s technicians to unlock the device without triggering an internal booby-trap and that would surely take too long to find out. As far as Hermione could tell, the only people who knew the passcode were the two people she was in the room with (and she had her doubts that the man even knew).

If Hermione was a cold-hearted villain, she would torture one of them to make the other reveal the code, but it would be a chilly day in hell before she'd do something of the sort. Casting the Imperius Curse on Natasha was equally out of the question. Hermione had no truth potions on her but she made a mental note to carry one on future assignments.

_Legillimancy._

The word flashed into her mind and she bit her lip. She couldn't do that to Natasha, could she? It would be a huge violation of her privacy. She doubted that Natasha would be particularly pleased to find out that Hermione had been seeing her inner thoughts and memories. But on the other hand, she felt that Natasha would be disappointed if she didn't do everything she could to complete her assignment.

Hermione glanced up at the safe. She'd been able to unlock that with a simple spell but she was well aware that technology didn't respond in the same way. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand and took a steadying breath, hoping that she'd made the right decision.

"_Alohomora_,"she whispered, focusing on exactly what she wanted the magic to do. If this didn't work then she had no choice but to explore Natasha's mind, otherwise she'd fail and that was entirely unacceptable to her.

The passcode screen flashed on, before flickering on to a new image which looked similar to a GPS tracker. Hermione instinctively read out the coordinates as the tablet started to flicker and fail. "61.2345N, 149." Then the screen went black. "Damn, it's gone. I think it was .7656 West," she said, and surrounded the tablet in a protective shield in case it did self-destruct. "There was a tracker showing those coordinates. Did you get them, Coulson?"

"Got them," he replied. She let out a deep breath and swept a hand across her forehead in relief. A muffled bang from the tablet made her jump but her shield prevented any damage to herself or the room. She suspected that the explosion would have been more dangerous had this been a real assignment though. "It's a warehouse on the outskirts of Anchorage," Coulson told her.

"Alaska?" she asked in dismay.

"Well, that's about as close to Russia as you're going to get on this continent."

"True, but it's quite a journey from here, even by Portkey. I'll have to do it in a couple of trips."

"Just focus on clearing things up there, we can worry about Alaska in a minute," he instructed.

Hermione nodded and stood, surveying the scene. She closed the safe and returned the painting that covered it. She cast an illusion charm over the tablet to make it look like it hadn't been through an explosion, before replacing it in the drawer.

She bit her lip as she looked at Natasha and the man.

"Granger, are you out yet?" Coulson asked.

"The man, he's an agent, yes?" she queried, ignoring his question.

"Does it matter?"

"If this was real, I'd change their memories so that they'd never know they'd been attacked by an invisible assailant," she explained, still staring at their prone forms.

"You _must_ treat this as a real situation," he warned.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not going to modify someone's mind for no good reason, Coulson. I'm good at memory charms, but anybody can make a mistake and healing brain damage is far beyond my capabilities."

"Well, you'd better hope they don't wake up, or that no one discovers them, otherwise the alarm will be raised," he pointed out.

"I know," she murmured, moving over to the door. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take. The stunning spell will keep them out of action for another hour if they're uninterrupted and I've placed a powerful locking charm on the door to stop anyone getting in. I'm sorry, Coulson, but that's my decision."

"Just get out of there."

* * *

Alaska was bloody cold.

It wasn't long since summer had graced these shores but Hermione was highly unimpressed with the unseasonable snow that lay about five inches deep throughout the city. An immediate modification of her outfit had been necessary to prevent her teeth from chattering.

Coulson had given her the coordinates of a S.H.I.E.L.D. hideout in the city, where she was able to travel by portkey, via a brief stop in Seattle. A car was parked out front and she wasted no time in clearing the snow off it and racing to the warehouse.

"Any luck with the security footage?" she asked. Coulson was trying to hack into their second warehouse in less than an hour while giving her directions at the same time.

"Take the next right onto Boniface Parkway," he instructed. "And no. They're proving more of a challenge than last time."

Hermione frowned as she made the turning. She didn't want to go into the building completely blind. Who knew what danger the Lyukhovich Gang were keeping in that warehouse? Perhaps the danger they'd been warned about wasn't even in Anchorage, but it was merely the next step of the puzzle?

After a few more minutes, Coulson had successfully directed her to the warehouse. Hermione parked a street away and reapplied her disillusionment charm before getting to see what the building was like. It was bigger than the nightclub and there were no buildings immediately next to it, which would make entry a bit more difficult. She looked down at the snow with a scowl; there was no way she could just walk up to the building when her footprints would show up so clearly. She'd have to fly in her animagus form and hope there was an entrance on the roof or an open window somewhere. The invisibility cloak would have to stay behind.

"Have you managed to give me eyes inside?" she asked. Going in blind would be dangerous, but if Coulson couldn't hack the footage then she'd have no choice. She waited a few seconds for a response. "Coulson?" He didn't reply. "Great," she muttered, realising that she was on her own.

Acting quickly, she hid the invisibility cloak underneath the driver's seat, replaced her wand in its holster and transformed into her merlin falcon.

The chill in the air was barely noticeable as she soared through the sky. She circuited the building a couple of times to spot an access point and settled with the ventilation shaft on the roof. The protective grills were set back from the outer edge of the shaft to protect them from the frequent frosty weather and they provided enough cover for Hermione to land and transform back to her human form.

Taking out her wand, she separated the grill from the main shaft and squeezed herself into the mental vent. She followed the light of her wand as she crawled along the narrow passage, her petite frame an advantage as she had to lower herself quietly whenever it turned sharply downwards.

Hermione had no idea whether she was going the right way or not, but was just following her instincts. All of the grills she'd come across had overlooked empty rooms, which was reassuring in some ways but she wanted to see some people to know she was in the right place.

After a few more minutes of crawling, she finally heard voices. She inched herself closer and looked down at the room below. A couple of men were sat around a table, playing cards. One of them spoke in a language that sounded very Russian to her ears and the other laughed heartily in response. And Coulson had said her lack of Russian wouldn't matter!

She heard the sound of a door opening and watched as another man entered the room. The three exchanged more words she didn't understand, before one of the men rose and the newcomer took his place. It looked as though they were exchanging shifts. The man picked up a semi-automatic handgun from a different table on his way out.

Hermione shuffled forwards until she came to what she hoped was an empty room not too far from where she'd seen the guards. She removed the grill as quietly as she could and then extricated herself carefully from the vent. Mercifully, there were no people or security cameras in the room, so she replaced the grill and cast a notice-me-not charm on herself. She positioned herself flat against the wall, slightly along from the door and pointed her wand at the centre of the room, creating a loud banging sound.

She didn't have long to wait before the door was thrown open and the two men who had been playing cards entered, guns raised. Their eyes journeyed straight past the spot where she was standing and she took the opportunity to tiptoe out of the door while they were looking the other way.

She took a chance and turned left along the corridor, but soon found herself at a dead end. She backtracked, carefully avoiding the men again and found the door that the single man was guarding. There was a code on the door, making Hermione frown. She wasn't a big fan of codes at that moment. However, she was saved from having to find her way past him, for the guard held his fingers to his ear, as though receiving a message. He nodded in confirmation and turned round to the keypad.

Hermione scurried forward to watch him swipe an identification card and press the numbers 64924. The door buzzed and flashed green to admit him and Hermione slipped in behind him. They journeyed down a stark, white corridor, the guard still oblivious to her presence thanks to the charms.

They came to another locked door and Hermione watched again as the guard swiped and entered the same five digits to gain access. There were a number of guards in this wide corridor, all of which were heavily armed. They were standing in front of what looked remarkably like a bank vault door. The apparent leader greeted the guard she was following, but none of them noticed her behind him. They exchanged a few words in Russian while Hermione tried to figure out what to do.

Judging by the amount of weaponry on display, whatever was behind that door must be what she was here to stop. But what was the safest way past? Apparating to the other side of the door wouldn't be too difficult in itself, but the fact that she didn't know what was on the other side, worried her. There could be a twenty foot drop or other booby traps lying in wait for her. And who knew if there were guards on the other side too? If she just bypassed these men, they would surely open the door themselves if they heard some sort of disturbance beyond it.

Aware that her time was running out, Hermione steeled herself and took action. From the inside of her clothes she retrieved a S.H.I.E.L.D. issued stun grenade. Walking calmly forwards so as not to break the notice-me-not charm, she concealed her grenade in her palm until she was in the middle of the guards. She pulled out the pin and placed it on the ground.

The alarmed yells came too late as she apparated to the other side of the vault door, fully prepared to transform back into a falcon, should her feet not meet solid ground.

Luckily, she landed safely on two feet but she stumbled as she felt the force of the stun grenade. Looking up, she sensed she was in a large room, but it was hard to get a perspective as it was very dark. A foreign smell met her senses and she began to cough. Realising that some sort of gas had been released she quickly staggered away and cast the bubblehead charm to protect herself.

Squinting back to where she had entered, she saw the gas was being emitted from an arrow. Her eyes widened as it dawned on her that someone hostile was shooting at her. She instinctively threw herself to the side as an arrow flew through the air where she'd been a split second before. With so little time to react to the arrows, it was too risky to apparate away in case they were transported in the spell too. Based on the trajectory of the arrow, her assailant was positioned at a higher level than she was and they seemed to be able to see her just fine. She was a sitting duck if she didn't get her attacker in her sights.

Hermione activated the potion to give her greater vision but it was wearing off. She could only just see the outline of her attacker on a raised platform that spanned the width of the room, but it was all that she needed. Another arrow was on its way towards her and she erected a magical shield to block its path. A stunner, impedimenta jinx and body-bind curse were sent in quick succession up to the attacker. The archer expertly manipulated his body to avoid the spells and Hermione knew she was up against a worthy opponent. Or she would be, if she weren't capable of magic. Taking the opportunity to disapparate while her attacker was getting back to two feet, Hermione moved once, twice, three times to different points in the room, before appearing behind them on the platform and stunning them instantly.

Pulse racing, she turned her attention to the rest of the room. Hermione had to strain to see and when she blinked a couple of times, her advanced vision faded and she was left in the semi-darkness. Casting _lumos maxima, _she was able to see more clearly. A large shipping container was placed in the middle of the room so she apparated down to it.

With a mighty heave, she drew back the bolt across the door and shone her wand inside to see what was within.

The container was empty.

Mostly.

A red number fifteen appeared on a panel on the wall of the container, under which was strapped a large amount of explosives. The fifteen changed to a fourteen. Hermione gasped. But this couldn't be the imminent danger! A bomb inside a container, in a remote warehouse in Alaska wasn't going to do much damage! No, it didn't make sense. She was missing something.

The red number had changed to a ten before her eyes detected the tiniest reflection from her wandlight at the other end of the container. She sprinted forward and discovered the slimmest flash drive that she had ever seen, taped to the bottom corner of the container. Wordlessly, Hermione summoned it into her palm and apparated back on to the platform with the archer. Knowing she only had a handful of seconds left, she magically locked the container and sent as many protective shields around it as she could, before grabbing hold of the archer and apparating them outside to where she'd parked the car.

It might have been her imagination, but Hermione thought she heard a distant boom coming from the warehouse as she landed in the snow.

She'd barely taken a breath before a familiar voice spoke in her ear. "Report to Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Granger. They're expecting you."

Hermione frowned at Fury's instructions. "Where?"

"The military facility," he elaborated. "Just follow the signs. Oh, and leave your new friend where he is; someone will pick him up in a minute."

"Yes, sir," she muttered, sparing the archer a quick look before following Fury's instructions. Had she passed? There was nothing comforting in the Director's voice to tell her so, but, then again, she'd be a little more alarmed if there _had_. As far as she was aware, Nick Fury didn't do comfort. No, she'd just have to sweat it out for a few minutes until she learned her fate.

* * *

Despite a distance of over three thousand miles between them, Fury could feel Coulson's anxiety as he waited to discover what happened to Granger after he'd lost communication with her. The loss of contact had been planned, of course, but in some ways it was worse for the supervising officer as they were completely in the dark about how their charge was getting on.

"Granger's assignment was successful," Fury informed him, speaking into the phone.

"Was it ever in doubt?" Coulson replied, sounding far more confident than Fury suspected he was.

"I get the feeling she played things safer than she needed to but I'll know more once I speak to her," he replied. "What are your thoughts on her refusal to alter Romanoff and Ward's memories?"

"I think she was absolutely right," Coulson said instantly. "Granger knows more about the risks of tampering with people's memories than we do. If she says it's not worth the risk, then I respect her judgement to overstep the reality of the assessment, sir."

Granger had a conscience; there was no doubt about that. Fury didn't want her to be a ruthless killer with no thought of consequences, but she might need a steelier edge if she was going to be as successful as he hoped. That being said, her recommendation from England had mentioned her combat history, so there was obviously more grit in Hermione Granger than she was happy to let show.

"What was waiting for her in Anchorage, sir? You haven't told me," Coulson interrupted his thoughts.

"A squad of experienced combat agents that she managed to walk straight up to without them spotting her. She dropped them with a stun grenade at point blank range. Then on the other side of a high security vault door she took out Agent Barton in about thirty seconds. It probably would have been less than ten if the room had been properly lit. Finally, she retrieved a miniature flash drive hidden in a shipping container that had a bomb primed to explode in fifteen seconds. She contained the explosion and zapped herself and Barton to safety anyway."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"And if any normal agent had received the same assignment in DC, they would only now be touching down in Chicago," Fury added, pointing out the impressive speed at which Granger could work.

"You did know that she'd originally booked this afternoon off, didn't you, sir?" Coulson asked, suspicion heavy in his voice. "I believe she'd planned to spend time with her family in London."

"What are you getting at, Coulson?" Fury barked.

"You've had this planned for a while, posting your best agents across the country. You were testing her loyalties," Coulson accused.

Fury stood taller, despite the fact that the agent couldn't see him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I just thought that, with today being – "

"I know what day it is, Coulson," he responded stiffly. "That's why I did it. What better present for her than qualified agent status?"

"I'm not sure she'd see it quite that way, sir," Coulson said. "But I like to think that she'd be touched at the sentiment."

"_Sentiment_?" Fury growled. He didn't think he'd ever been accused of sentimentality in his entire life! "Don't be absurd."

"So you _are_ trying to distance her from her life in the UK?" Coulson persisted.

"Clean things up in Chicago," Fury ordered, ignoring Coulson's remarks. "Let them know the assignment is over and fill Romanoff in on Granger's achievements."

"Yes, sir," Coulson replied, with a hint of a sigh. "Just, please congratulate Hermione for me."

"Goodbye, Coulson," Fury snapped, ending the call.

There was a knock on the door behind him and he called his assent. He turned as Hermione entered the room, looking nervous.

"Take a seat, Agent Granger," he said, indicating the table and chairs in the room. She faltered and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Agent?" she repeated.

"Yes, _'Agent'_," he confirmed with mock testiness. "I hope your hearing hasn't been affected by your exploits."

Her cheeks flushed and she indulged in a toothy smile. "No, sir. Sorry."

Fury held out a hand. "Congratulations, Hermione Granger. You are now officially an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for all the continued support!

* * *

Hermione flinched as Tony fell into step next to her, Iron Man suit and all, as the busy crowds around the Lincoln Memorial gasped and pointed at his unexpected arrival. He retracted his face mask and gave her a confused look as they continued to take a circuit of the Washington monuments and gardens.

"What are you doing?" he asked, seemingly appalled by her actions.

"I'm taking my lunchtime stroll," she answered amiably. "The ability to travel anywhere at the drop of the hat can induce laziness, so sometimes it's nice to just walk and get some fresh air." She sent him a curious look. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Well, I was in the neighbourhood," he replied nonchalantly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in his direction. "The neighbourhood," she repeated dryly. "New York City hardly qualifies as being in the same neighbourhood, does it?"

Tony stopped and looked down at her in alarm. "Have you been stalking me?" he asked, semi-seriously. "I knew I shouldn't have let you touch me when you teleported with me; it's obviously given you the wrong impression."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued her walk. "I hate to break it to you, Tony, but you're a little too old for me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger," he retorted. "You're hot for me and you know it."

Hermione glared at him and decided the best tactic was to get back to the original topic of conversation. "It's part of my job to know when you have important meetings. You tend to attract a lot of trouble and the Director wants me to know your whereabouts so that I can come to your rescue when the inevitable happens."

"Sure, _The Director_, wants you to know – "

"Tony!" she cut in, beginning to lose her patience. "What do you want?"

"It's October," he replied simply.

Hermione waited for him to elaborate. "_And?_"

"And you said you'd be twenty-one in September."

Her lips twitched. "Is this your complicated way of wishing me a 'Happy Birthday'?"

"Sure," he replied. "We should go out and celebrate your newly legal status to drink."

Hermione frowned. "I've been legally of age to drink for three years back home. Alcohol isn't some unknown quantity to me."

"Yes, but a night out with Tony Stark is," he argued.

"Why would you want to have a night out with me?" she asked in amazement. "I hardly think I'm your usual type of drinking buddy."

He pulled a conflicted face. "True," he agreed. "But we're still joint partners in Stranger Enterprises. What sort of a colleague would I be if I didn't celebrate your birthday with you?"

Hermione hesitated. "Why do I get the feeling that this is just a huge practical joke to get back at me for destroying your suit?"

He cocked his head as though considering the idea. "Well, now that you mention it…" but he shook his head, apparently rejecting the idea. "No, Granger, I'm being sincere here. No one ever believes me when I'm showing honest sincerity!" he muttered. "Look; you, me and Pepper, dinner and whichever club takes your fancy."

"Pepper's coming?" Hermione asked, the relief evident in her voice.

"Oh, so now you know Pepper will be there, you're totally okay with the situation," Tony grumbled. "Need I remind you, that she locked us in a room together and crossed her fingers that we wouldn't blow each other up? How is _she_ the trustworthy one in this trio?"

"Can I bring a couple of friends to the club?" she asked, ignoring his mutterings.

"You have friends?" he sounded genuinely surprised but held up his hands in acquiescence at her scowl. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he sighed. "Look, I'd better dash; I've got another meeting at two and it takes some of us longer than a heartbeat to travel from city to city. I'll get Pepper to call you to sort out the details."

"Of course," she replied, with a smile. "Thanks, Tony."

"See you later, kiddo!" He replaced his face mask and shot into the air. Hermione watched him leave for a moment and then realised that she was attracting far more attention than she'd like. She turned swiftly back towards the Triskelion, deciding to cut her walk short for the day.

* * *

"_These_ are your _friends_?!" Tony asked, looking somewhat appalled as Granger waved Romanoff and Coulson into the VIP section with them.

Granger looked back at him in all innocence. "Yes. Why?"

Tony made to retort but Pepper placed a calming hand on his back. "Here, have another drink."

He looked suspiciously at the glass she handed him. "I don't think you've ever recommended that I drink _more_."

Pepper laughed as she got to her feet to greet the newcomers. "I know. Who'd have thought that day would ever come."

Tony watched as his beautiful, sexy woman greeted the agents warmly and he took the suggested gulp. He reflected on how odd Coulson looked in civilian dress; like he was a normal person who went to nightclubs. The image didn't sit quite well with Tony so he drank again from his glass.

The evening had been relatively pleasant until that point (apart from when an ignorant waiter in the restaurant had asked whether Granger was enjoying her dinner with her 'parents'. While Granger had found the mix-up hilarious, he and Pepper had been less than amused.) They had spent a while discussing the reason for his and Pepper's visit to New York – the finalisation of the plans for their new Stark Tower. Tony was unsurprised to discover that Granger was all for clean energy, and she vowed that all of her creations with him at Stranger Enterprises would be 'green' too. However, each time Tony tried to steer the conversation to a more personal aspect of Granger's life, or even her S.H.I.E.L.D. work, she would completely clamp up and change topic. He suspected that it would take a lot more alcohol-consumption on Granger's part if she was going to get loose lipped. Speaking of…

He signalled to the bar keeper, who brought over a selection of bottles and some shot glasses.

"About time, Stark," Romanoff called, walking forward and unscrewing the lid off of a whiskey bottle. She was looking as glamorous as ever in a figure-hugging emerald dress and she wasted no time in pouring out drinks for them all.

"Stark," Coulson greeted, with a nod of the head which Tony returned. "How did we end up with the three most beautiful women in New York tonight?"

"Well, I'm outrageously rich and handsome," Tony replied, "So that part's no mystery. You, on the other hand…?"

Coulson laughed, despite the fact that Tony wasn't really joking. But the agent was right in one respect because Pepper, Romanoff and even Granger looked stunning. That wasn't a slight at the youngest woman, but Tony had only ever really thought of her as cute, rather than sexy. He didn't know what had influenced Granger to dress a bit less prim and proper, but he definitely liked it.

"It's only right that we make a proper night of this, seeing as we've got two reasons to celebrate," Romanoff said, handing the drinks around.

"Two reasons?" Pepper repeated in confusion.

Coulson and Romanoff looked at Granger in surprise and she shrugged. "I didn't know if I was allowed to tell them," she said, still leaving Tony and Pepper in the dark.

"I don't see the harm," Coulson stated, causing Granger to send him a grateful smile.

"I fully qualified as an agent!" she announced happily and was immediately congratulated by Pepper.

Tony mulled this news over. From his previous dealings with S.H.I.E.L.D, Tony knew that Granger wasn't your average agent and not just because of her abilities. There was an innocence about her, almost a naivety, that he could only see getting crushed in her chosen line of work. But what surprised him was the fact that he actually seemed to care. He blamed Pepper's influence.

"Well, that means it's double shots all round," Tony announced, lining up another set of glasses.

"Tony," Pepper said warningly.

"What? We're celebrating!" he replied, forcing drinks into people's hands before turning to Granger. "Here's to drinking and being a pawn in the pain in my ass, both of which you've now legally qualified for." He held his drink aloft but faltered at the looks he was being met with.

"To Hermione!" Pepper declared, which Coulson and Romanoff echoed. Tony sent a confused look at Pepper, wondering what she was talking about. She jerked her head in Granger's direction and he remembered that was her first name.

"Ah, sure, to Hermione!" He downed his shots, amused at the wrinkled nose on Granger's face.

Soon afterwards, Pepper and Granger disappeared off to the bathroom and Tony found himself left with just Romanoff and Coulson for company. It wasn't the most comfortable he'd ever felt.

"Does Granger _really_ consider you two her friends?" Tony asked. He hadn't meant the question to sound so insulting but he didn't really care if they were offended.

"Why's that so hard to believe?" Romanoff pouted. "We're both lovely, fun people to be around."

"Er, no and no," Tony replied, pointing to each of them in turn.

"She hasn't really had the opportunity to meet other people," Coulson explained. "She's seen us pretty much every day for the last five months and we've worked very closely together."

"Wait, you two trained her?" Tony asked and they nodded. "Poor kid," he muttered, receiving a light-hearted thump from Romanoff for his comment. "So, what do you make of her?"

"No way," Romanoff replied, shaking her head. "You already know too much about her."

"Huh, you almost sound protective," Tony accused, something he'd never thought he'd say of Natasha Romanoff.

"She can take care of herself," Coulson declared. "Believe me."

"Oh, I know she can," Tony replied, recalling his dismantled suit. Coulson and Romanoff shared grins, as though they knew exactly what he was thinking about. "But you're still happy for her to end up like you two?" He left the finer points of what he meant unsaid but he knew that they'd understand. All the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he'd ever met seemed to be slightly removed from life, as though they'd trained themselves to be above emotions. Judging by Granger's bubbly personality that night, the dehumanisation wasn't something that happened during their training, but was something they had to do because of their experiences as part of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Now who sounds like they're being protective?" Romanoff pointed out, taking a sip from her beer bottle.

"My only concern is as a business partner," Tony retorted. "I expect she told you of _Stranger Enterprises_. I don't want to see her potential to make me a second successful company go to waste."

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Stark," Coulson replied, with a shake of the head.

The rest of the evening was mostly a blur when Tony woke the next morning, but judging by how worse for wear he felt, it had been a very good night. He groaned into his pillow and tried to piece together the random images that flashed through his memory.

From what he could remember, he had tried to get Granger drunk enough to spill some of her secrets but if his memory was accurate, the young agent had matched him drink for drink the whole night. Drunk-Tony had been flabbergasted that her tiny frame hadn't keeled over once they'd polished off the bottle of tequila.

He groaned again, this time for two reasons: first, because the mere _thought_ of drinking alcohol made him feel extremely nauseated and second, was the realisation that Granger had obviously been using her magic to ward off the effects of her drinks. He had no proof of this, but the mere fact that she wasn't taken away in an ambulance in the early hours of the morning was enough to convince him. That girl knew too damn well how to play him.

"Tony?" Pepper called, with a soft knock on the door. He tried to articulate something (he wasn't sure what) but all that came out of his mouth was a strange gurgle. Pepper seemed to take that as a sign to enter because he felt the mattress dip slightly as she sat on the edge of the bed, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. "Good morning," she greeted and was met with a grunt in reply. "Hermione just dropped this off for you. She said you had until exactly twenty-three minutes past to make use of it, otherwise it would vanish. There's such a short time limit on it so that you can't investigate it and market your own hangover cure."

Tony opened a bleary eye and just about managed to focus on a small glass vial in Pepper's outstretched hand. Its luminous yellow contents didn't look particularly appetising but if it made his body feel even the slightest bit less like death, then he'd happily gulp it down. He took the vial and ignored the lurching in his stomach as he forced his mouth to open. Due to its icy temperature, he shuddered as the liquid travelled down his throat and then slumped back onto his pillow.

"Feel better?" Pepper asked.

Tony opened his eyes. "What the…" He sat up and looked down at himself in surprise. He felt absolutely fine – more than fine; he felt great! "She doesn't want us to market this?!" he asked in disbelief. He looked at his palm but the vial had disappeared as Granger had promised.

"She doesn't want to encourage irresponsible drinking," Pepper explained with a knowing grin.

Tony felt his shoulders slump in disappointment. Granger had a fair point but it still pained him that this extraordinary business venture was never going to see the light of day. "Damn, goody-goody," he muttered.

* * *

Hermione whacked the cloth against the rock, scattering water droplets all over herself, but it was a refreshing sensation given the warmth of the Indian air. She was convinced that her technique left much to be desired, but as long as she didn't rouse the suspicions of Dr Banner, then that was all that mattered.

She had met Bruce Banner on a handful of occasions, though he didn't know it, of course. When S.H.I.E.L.D. had first learned that Banner was on the move after settling in the depths of British Columbia for a while, they had kept a distant, but intensive, eye on him. Every couple of weeks, Hermione would travel to Asia to put herself in his path. He never suspected anything when she stared at him because it was so rare to find a man of his race in the remote areas that he travelled through. Local children would run up to him and talk excitedly at him, though she doubted he understood what they were saying any more than she did. Hermione always looked the part thanks to her Polyjuice Potion, but if anyone tried to speak to her in Hindi, Persian, Burmese, Mandarin or any other language of an area she'd visited, then she had to feign deafness and move on.

She was lucky that Kingsley had started meeting with leaders of magic in other countries as soon as she had qualified as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, to give her permission to travel internationally by portkey. Her stories to both Fury and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't hold up for long if she said she couldn't magic herself to China or Pakistan because their magical ministries wouldn't let her! After all, as far as most people who knew about her were concerned, she was the only one of her kind, and Fury thought that magic was contained to the UK. Kingsley had impressed upon these foreign leaders the importance of secrecy in Hermione's case, seeing as she was acting to protect them all. She was operating under the illusion that they had all agreed – at least Kingsley hadn't told her otherwise.

Although each of her visits to Dr Banner had gone smoothly so far, Hermione knew that there was always a chance that something could go catastrophically wrong at any moment. She had discussed tactics and strategies with Fury about what she would try should the Hulk appear, but she hoped she'd never have to put those theories into practice. The other S.H.I.E.L.D. assignments she'd carried out had been dangerous too, but she'd be the only one hurt if there was a hiccup. If Dr Banner turned into the Hulk then nobody in a rather large vicinity was safe.

In the distance, she heard the sound of a motor vehicle. She knew it was most likely to be him, so she resumed her cleaning efforts and waited to watch him ride by on the other side of the stream. Sure enough, a rather ancient and battered motorcycle came into view and Hermione had to shield her gaze from the glare of the sun to make out Dr Banner at the controls.

Her stomach lurched when she realised that Banner was slowing down and she tried to keep herself in character. As a young Asian woman from a remote village, she would rightly be worried about being alone with a man she'd never met, but also curious about this strange foreign visitor.

She stood warily and watched him approach from the other side of the stream, a bundle under his arms. His hair was a little lighter than when she'd last seen him but that could be due to the intensity of the sunlight. He paused and placed the bundle on the ground, before placing his palms together and bowing his head. "Namaste," he greeted.

Hermione echoed his actions and mumbled the same greeting, hoping that most of what she said wouldn't be heard over the trickling stream.

He opened his bundle and she could see that it was full of his laundry.

"Could you show me?" Dr Banner asked, pointing to her own clothes and then holding his up hopefully. Hermione had to resist the urge to laugh as the phrase, 'the blind leading the blind', came to mind. She nodded her assent and he said something else she didn't understand that presumably expressed his thanks.

"You England?" she asked, glad that the words were unfamiliar enough to this tongue to give them a suitable accent.

Banner jumped from rock to rock to get to her side of the stream. "Yes," he lied. "I'm from London. My name is David."

Hermione didn't blame him for lying. If she was in hiding from every intelligence agency in the world, she would be fibbing left, right and centre.

"Sakina," Hermione told him, indicating that this was her name. "Why you go from London?" she questioned with a frown. She crouched back down next to her clothes again, sweeping her turquoise sari away from the water's edge.

"I like big, open spaces," he replied simply, sitting next to her to watch. "Cities can be a bit claustrophobic." Hermione looked back at him, confusion evident in her face. He pulled his limbs in tightly against his body and made an unhappy face. "London," he explained. Then he opened up his arms and gestured to the surrounding fields and smiled. Hermione nodded and picked up the next item of clothing.

Banner soon picked up her very basic method and began to wash his clothes too. They didn't speak much, which was a relief to Hermione because she was constantly worried that she might break character and say something to give herself away.

When they were finished, they hung the clothes on a nearby tree to dry. Given the day's temperature, it wouldn't take long.

Hermione offered him some roti bread that she had planned to eat while she waited for him to appear. He held his hands up to turn her down but agreed at her insistence. "Thank you," he said. He was slim, not worryingly so, but enough to make Hermione give him the rest of her bread too, despite his protestations. He tore one piece in two and they sat on the bank, eating a half each.

"You go Mumbai?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Mumbai," she imitated his earlier actions of squashing her limbs tight against her body.

He laughed. "Yes, I've heard that."

Hermione stared at him sadly. From what she'd read of Bruce Banner, she already knew that he was a scientific genius. Her own education in the sciences had pretty much ceased when she'd left for Hogwarts, but since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. she had been doing her level best to read up on the advancements in the world. However, Banner's work was so far beyond her that she felt like she was reading a dummy's guide to science compared to him. What all her reading on Banner hadn't told her was that he seemed like an unassuming, kind person. It was such a contrast to the footage she'd seen of the Hulk in Harlem. She wished fate hadn't chosen this lonely path for him.

She wiped the pity from her face when he turned to smile at her, his dark hair ruffled slightly by a merciful breeze. "Thank you, Sakina," he said, getting to his feet.

She helped him fold his clothes back into a bundle. They were still a little damp but Hermione got the impression that he wanted to be on his way.

"Alvida, Sakina," he said, with another small bow when they were finished.

"Alvida, David," she repeated, knowing that it meant goodbye.

She watched as he jumped on the rocks again and returned the wave he sent her when he drove away.

* * *

"Sir, I have a car with an unfamiliar license plate approaching," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced. A split second later there was an audible crash from outside Tony's Malibu mansion.

Tony waved his hand to switch the screen from the movie he and Pepper were watching, to a security camera of what was happening outside. Someone had crashed into the curving wall that surrounded his driveway. Smoke was curling from the car's crumpled bonnet but from that angle there seemed to be no sign of activity from anything inside.

Tony gave Pepper a warning look. "Stay here," he commanded, leaving her on the settee and racing off to investigate further. Recent experience taught him that it was better to be cautious, so he quickly suited up and made his way to the wrecked car.

It was Granger.

She was slumped, unconscious against the steering wheel's airbag. He used his suit to cut the door away from the rest of the car and threw it to one side, before carefully extricating Granger from the vehicle. He carried her inside to where Pepper was watching anxiously.

"Oh my God! Hermione!" Pepper cried when she saw who was in Tony's arms. "I'll call an ambulance."

A moan escaped Granger's mouth and Pepper stopped in surprise. "No ambulance," she said, her voice not much more than a whisper. Tony continued to carry her down to his workshop where he was most equipped to be able to help her, should the need arise. He wasn't surprised at her desire to avoid the emergency services, for they were bound to ask a lot of awkward questions.

"You've just been in a car crash," Pepper reminded her, concern evident in her voice, as Tony laid her down carefully. "And, holy crap, have you been shot!?"

Tony frowned at the lack information he was getting from J.A.R.V.I.S. about Granger and her injuries, but then he remembered the stipulation she had made with the computer program that it not be used to investigate her. He didn't need J.A.R.V.I.S.'s data to see that Pepper was right though – there was a clear bullet hole in her upper right arm and blood was flowing freely from it.

"Granger, let me use J.A.R.V.I.S. to help you otherwise I'm taking you to the hospital myself. Got it?" He hoped that she would see sense.

She opened her eyes with a pained expression. "I don't trust you."

"And that's the thanks I get for trying to help you?" he muttered angrily. "You're the one who's crashed into my home and – wait, the person who shot you, they're not following you are they?" He wasn't worried for himself, of course, but he'd jump off a cliff without his suit before he let anything happen to Pepper.

"No! Lost them about ten miles away," she gasped painfully. "Couldn't leave the car. Got my blood."

"Fine. Well, anyway, hospital it is!" He scooped her up slightly more roughly than he should have done and she yelped.

"Tony!" Pepper objected, eyes wide.

"All right!" Granger ground out through gritted teeth. "I give my consent, J.A.R.V.I.S. Just find out what's wrong with me then I can fix it and be out of your way."

"Yes, Ms Granger," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced and Tony was immediately assaulted with visual information about her injuries as he placed her back down again. "The bullet has cracked your right humerus and become lodged in the flesh. Your left wrist has been fractured, your ribcage is severely bruised and there are breaks in ribs five and six on your right side and six and seven on your left. You have snapped the Achilles tendon in your right foot and have a moderate form of concussion and whiplash." J.A.R.V.I.S. showed the extent of her damage on the screens in the lab.

"Er, maybe we'd better pay a visit to the hospital after all," Pepper suggested, frowning at the scans J.A.R.V.I.S. was showing.

"No," Granger sighed breathlessly, struggling up to a sitting position. "No, I can manage."

She pulled her wand out from inside her cream jacket and placed it in her lap. There was then a surreal moment when she buried her left arm deep inside her jacket pocket, which looked physically impossible. "Er, Mary Poppins? Do you need some help?"

Granger's eyes glinted in triumph and from the pocket she pulled out a large glass vial of crimson liquid that was far too big to fit into the pocket in the first place. She ignored Tony's offer of help and turned to Pepper. "Could you pour me out about a quarter of that?"

"Sure," Pepper replied, looking around for a suitable receptacle.

"Hello!" Tony called, waving his arms around. "I think _I'm_ the most qualified to be of assistance here!"

Granger accepted the poured out liquid from Pepper and downed it in one, then winced and held a hand to her sore ribs. "Thanks. That should take care of the pain for now." She sounded calm and collected but Tony could tell how shaken up she was by the way the glass trembled in her hands.

"What else do you need?" Pepper asked anxiously.

Tony watched forlornly as Granger forced the red potion back into her pocket.

"Call Coulson for me?" Granger requested. "Just let him know that I'm all right and I'll get in contact when I've patched myself up."

Pepper nodded and left the room to carry out her task.

Granger turned her gaze back to Tony. "You want to help?"

"No, I've always preferred to sit at the side and watch the world drift by without me," he muttered sarcastically.

"Shut up, Tony," she retorted hotly. "I need you to hold my arm, keep it as steady as you can."

"Wait, are you going to operate on yourself? That's stupid! Just let me do it!"

"I don't remember you qualifying as a surgeon," she said, eyebrow raised.

"Any idiot can be a surgeon," he claimed confidently. "I built an arc reactor to save my life – no surgeon would've been able to do the same."

Granger shook her head. "I don't need ground-breaking technology," she pointed out. "Magical incisions are much easier for me to heal anyway. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

Tony ignored the fact that his role wasn't much more than that of a pair of clamps, and watched in quiet fascination as Granger used her wand to further slice open the flesh of her arm. She was using J.A.R.V.I.S. to be precise in her work and avoid cutting into the brachial artery. He was desperate to make some comment on the blood that was staining the hands of his suit but he didn't dare break her concentration.

Less than a minute later, a small, metallic bullet was floating in the air between them. It fell to the ground with a slight clink. Granger tapped Tony on the arm to show that he could let go of her. She muttered a couple of incantations and he heard a click that he presumed was her bone resetting itself. She took out another bottle from her impossible pocket and pulled out the lid with a pipette attached. She squeezed a few drop over her bullet wound, causing green smoke to appear. When it had cleared, Tony saw that her wound was virtually non-existent.

"What's that stuff called?" Tony asked, hoping that his tone was casually interested.

Granger gave him a look that clearly said that he should know better than to ask her something like that. "How's it looking, J.A.R.V.I.S.?" she asked instead, flexing her repaired limb.

"No further breaks or fractures are showing in the damaged area," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. "The flesh is slightly inflamed but that should wear off in a few hours. You have done a very neat job, Ms Granger."

"Thank you," she responded, looking at the new scans J.A.R.V.I.S. was showing of her arm. "Now on to the next problem."

By the time Pepper returned a few minutes later, Tony had given up expecting to be of any further use in his suit and had stored it away – but not before cleaning Granger's blood off of it. After a minute of internal deliberation, he decided to secret her blood samples away to investigate on a rainy day. Yes, he'd promised her he wouldn't, but there was bound to come a time when he and Granger were no longer on friendly terms (it was something of a mathematical certainty with him) and he knew he'd regret not having something he could use to shine the light on her secrets.

"How's it going in here?" Pepper asked. Her eyes widened at the lack of wound on Granger's arm. "You sure look like you're on the mend."

Granger nodded. "I'm almost done." She waved her wand around her head a couple of times, muttering under her breath. A pale green, smoky light appeared, like a diseased halo, before shrinking in circumference until it seemed to disappear inside her head. "What did Coulson say?"

"He's just glad you're okay," Pepper replied with a soothing smile. "He says you're to take a couple of days off." Granger opened her mouth, looking very unhappy with that news but Pepper cut her off. "No arguments," she insisted sternly. "He said you'd object."

Granger's shoulders slumped and she rubbed a hand over her eyes. "He's cross with me for screwing up," she mumbled. Tony was quite alarmed to see that her eyes were rather wet when she took her hand away.

"Er, I'm just going to," Tony began, taking a step towards the door but he paused at the fierce look Pepper sent him. She didn't honestly think that his presence near an emotional Granger would be a good thing, did she? "To do some work," he said, slinking off to the work bench that was furthest from the two women.

He managed to tune out most of the reassurances that Pepper was offering Granger, as he deliberately made more noise than was necessary, until the ringtone of Pepper's cell phone cut through the room.

Pepper looked to her phone with a grimace. "I'm _so_ sorry, Hermione, but I have to take this. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." Pepper gave Tony an expectant look and tilted her head at Granger. Tony pulled a disgruntled face but Pepper didn't waver. He threw his tools down in disgust. Sometimes he really questioned who had the alpha status in their relationship…

"Want a drink?" he called over to Granger, as Pepper slipped out of the room again.

"Not with the potion," she replied, still sounding glum. "Unless you've got some water?"

"Never heard of it," he answered, pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey, for that was the only way he could see himself getting through the next couple of minutes. "You could suck on an ice cube though."

"Pass," she sighed.

"Suit yourself." He came over to sit closer – not close enough to see her eye to eye, but not so far away that he felt like a dick. "But, hey, a couple of days off is good, right? You could have a bit of R&amp;R, go to a spa and sit in a pile of mud or whatever it is you girls do." But Tony knew that didn't seem the right suggestion; Granger didn't look the type to go to a health resort. "Or maybe go home to England and see the family?"

He knew he'd said the wrong thing as soon as her face scrunched up and more tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. "We're not really on speaking terms at the moment," she admitted miserably with a little shake of her head.

_Shit._ "Oh, um, what about friends? Or a boyfriend – or girlfriend if you swing that way."

At this suggestion she dissolved into rather noisy sobs. _Shit, shit, shit!_ He'd quite happily face all of Hammer's drones again instead of be here with a crying girl.

"W-we broke up!" she cried. Or at least that's what Tony thought she said, as much of her mouth was obscured by the hands she'd buried her face into. "A-and all of my friends are Ron's friends too and I know they think it's my fault because I'm always away so much!"

Tony strode over to the door. "Pepper!" he called desperately. To his utter relief, Pepper hurried back looking alarmed.

"What is it?" she asked, then gasped when she caught sight of Granger. "Tony!" she admonished, quickly sweeping Granger up into a hug.

"I was honestly trying to help!" Tony insisted as Granger sobbed on to Pepper's shoulder. "J.A.R.V.I.S., back me up here."

"Mr Stark had the best of intentions, Miss Potts," the computer system said. "Even I sometimes struggle to understand the complexities of human interactions, so you can imagine how difficult it is for someone like Mr Stark."

"_See!_" Tony emphasised.

"Come on, Hermione," Pepper soothed, helping Granger get to her feet. "Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable and Tony can get us some cocoa."

"Cocoa?" Tony scoffed.

"Yes, cocoa," Pepper repeated, a steeliness in her voice. "And ice cream."

"We don't even have any ice cr- oh!" Tony could have kissed her for giving him a way out of this mess.

"I have twenty locations within a four mile radius that sell ice cream, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced.

"Try a forty mile radius," Tony requested when Pepper and Granger had left the room.

The ice cream had melted by the time Tony returned to his mansion.

"Hermione's sleeping in one of your guest rooms," Pepper told him upon arrival. Tony scowled; that was not particularly welcome news. He hated it when he had a guest that had to use a separate room (not that he wanted Granger to share his bed either). "You were the one that wanted to adopt Hermione when we first met her, remember?" Pepper teased, aware of Tony's displeasure.

"Well, that was before I knew what a pain in the ass she'd be," he retorted.

"Look, she was exhausted after everything that's happened," Pepper explained, linking her arm through his. "Most people would be more than a little unsettled after being shot _or_ crashing a car, and there was that other stuff as well."

"Did she open up to you?" Tony asked. He wasn't particularly bothered about Granger's emotional welfare, he was more interested in finding out about _her_. That little tidbit about her friends and family was pretty much the only personal thing she had ever told him about herself.

Pepper frowned. "She didn't go into details but that's hardly surprising given where she works."

"Damn, S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered. "So, do you still want some cocoa and ice cream?"

Pepper took the cold cocoa and warm ice cream from him. "And where did you drive to get these?"

"San Francisco."

"Wow."

* * *

A/N I have next to no medical knowledge so if something I wrote is inaccurate then I apologise!

Next time... the last chapter in Hermione Granger: Agent of SHIELD!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Hey guys! Last chapter! Boo hoo! But fear not, if you read the AN at the bottom, hopefully most of you will be pleased!

* * *

Natasha walked confidently down the cobbled street. The tall buildings of the narrow walkway meant that she could mostly travel within the shadows, despite the cloudless Sicilian night above. Erice was the type of town that was both a blessing and a curse to an agent, for there were plenty of escape routes for her but also hiding places for any enemies.

Not that she should be encountering any foes that night. The annual workshop on Molecular Gastronomy was in town, which was about very clever, scientific ways to cook, present and experience food. Her assignment was to sound out the most gifted attendees and try to convince them to turn their talents to working with S.H.I.E.L.D. instead. It wasn't her most exciting detail but she'd gotten to sample a lot of delicious (and strange) food – something she didn't normally get to enjoy. A lot of their current work was really quite pointless but the ability was definitely there, it just needed to be pointed to a more useful purpose and Natasha could be _very_ persuasive.

When she had first received details of the assignment, she'd thought that there'd been a mistake. But when she'd arrived and seen the stunning scenery and beaches, she allowed herself a small smile. Fury knew she didn't take vacations and this was his idea of enforcing one on her. If the Director wanted her to spend most of her time visiting Norman castles, sunning herself on the beach and occasionally chatting to a peculiar chef whilst eating scrambled egg and bacon ice cream, who was she to argue?

The tranquilizer dart in her neck came as somewhat of a surprise.

She was slow to regain consciousness; whatever they had drugged her with was very strong. She could've been out of it for hours or days, she had no real way of being able to tell. Natasha was unable to move her limbs, but whether this was because they were restrained or it was a side effect of the tranquilizer, she couldn't tell. Someone spoke but her mind was too scrambled to tell if it was in one of the languages she spoke.

Someone kicked her in the ribs, making her groan at the pain. If her ribs were that sore while she was still drugged, she hated to think how badly she'd been damaged.

"Cosa vuoi?" she mumbled, asking what they wanted, in Italian. "Perché sono qui?"

"Nous attendons," a male voice replied in French. _We are waiting_.

"Qu'est-ce que vous attendez?" she asked. _What are you waiting for? _She tried to open her eyes so she could see her captors, but black spots danced in her vision and she closed them again.

"No es lo que. Quien?" he spoke in Spanish this time (at least Natasha thought it was the same man). _Not what. Who?_

"¿A quién estamos esperando?" she asked, playing along by changing language again. _Who are we waiting for?_ She doubted that she was going to like the answer.

"Koldun'ya." The harsh tone her native tongue was spoken in wasn't nearly as unsettling as the word itself: _Sorceress_.

Natasha thought it probably best not to say anything at all. This person (or people, as it was unlikely he was acting alone) already knew far too much about Granger, which severely worried her. It was over six months since Hermione had qualified as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and though Natasha wasn't privy to knowing all the details, she knew the young woman had racked up an impressive number of successful assignments.

It had only taken a few weeks for whisperings of a sorceress to start spreading amongst S.H.I.E.L.D.'s various workers. The fact that barely anyone knew any details about this mysterious agent only fuelled the fire. The name 'Hermione Granger' wasn't heard around S.H.I.E.L.D. except for a chosen few. All of Granger's identity showed her as Saskia Hailsham-Grey, a Level 4 agent who specialised in code breaking.

When she did go out into the big, bad world, Granger took care to take her disguise potion whenever she completed an assignment, picking both men and women in equal amounts. Natasha also knew that Hermione would further alter her appearance so that facial recognition wouldn't be used and therefore endanger the life of an innocent person. Most of this was unnecessary as she would also make herself invisible or difficult to detect anyway. From what Natasha had managed to glean from Coulson (as the man was still in overall charge of Granger and her assignments), Hermione's work involved a lot of intelligence gathering, especially since she and Stark had developed a device that was invisible to the naked eye. But Natasha also knew that she was thrown into operations that had gone sour to rescue agents and assets at the last minute. It was hardly surprising that some sort of criminal organisation had gotten fed up of the 'Sorceress' beating them at the death.

Natasha presumed that she had been abducted in order to lure 'The Sorceress' into a trap. She hoped that the fact they had chosen _her_ to act as bait for Granger was just a coincidence, but given their personal history, she doubted it.

And if Hermione came, what then? Did these people just want her dead? They'd have a pretty hard time carrying that out. Maybe they wanted to turn the agent to fight for their cause? Natasha had always thought Granger was too soft and if these people used physical and emotional torture, she doubted Hermione would hold out. Natasha also recalled what Granger said about her abilities coming from her genes. Would they want to experiment on her, use her DNA as a blue print to create others like her? None of the scenarios that Natasha came up with sounded positive. She just hoped that Granger would stay away…

* * *

When Hermione apparated into Natasha's suspected location, something happened that had never occurred during her S.H.I.E.L.D. assignments; the occupants of the room knew she was there despite her invisibility. Within two seconds of her arrival, about fifteen guns were pointing at her exact position, all held by masked mercenaries. She froze, wondering what to do. The fact that these people had obviously been expecting her meant that she must be in the right place for Natasha, but they also knew enough about her to have strategies in place to attempt to neutralise her abilities.

Another masked person, who seemed unarmed, separated themselves from the others and made a sweeping gesture. "Welcome, Sorceress. You honour us with your presence." The voice was female and had a strange accent that Hermione couldn't quite distinguish because it seemed to be influenced by a great many places. "I'm aware that it's not wise to show your trump card early, but I know you have a habit of not sticking around to make a game of it." The woman clicked her fingers and an image appeared on a huge screen that Hermione had assumed was just the back wall of the room. Fear swept through her body at what she saw: a pistol was being held against Natasha's head and a blade positioned against her throat. "If you leave or start using your sorcery on us, my colleagues will not hesitate to dispatch Agent Romanoff."

Hermione didn't doubt that she was telling the truth. She tried to force herself to stay calm despite the perilous situation she and Natasha were in. She assumed that the masks the people wore contained a thermal imaging device because that was the only way she could think of for them to be able to see her. She took off the invisibility cloak and let it fall to the ground, revealing her disillusioned self, but kept her wand out and ready.

"What do you want?" she asked. The voice and body she was using was not her own, but that of a middle-aged woman who worked as a lecturer in Memphis. The Polyjuice Potion would only last for another fifty-five minutes, so unless she managed to escape before then, they would know the identity of the Sorceress.

"We want you."

It was the answer that Hermione was expecting but it didn't stop a chill running down her spine.

"You've got me," she replied. "Now what?" And that was the question Hermione was seriously asking herself. How on earth was she going to find out Natasha's whereabouts from these people without using magic and causing the agent's death? There were a number of devices in her extended pocket that would provide a suitable distraction, but they were just as likely to kill Natasha as one of her spells. There was absolute silence coming from the device in her ear connecting her to Coulson and she could only presume that these people had found a way to jam their communications. This was a shame, as there was bound to be someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. who could send a false video feed to the people with Natasha to free Hermione up to use her magic.

There was _one_ solution, but she was terrified of crossing that moral line. The Imperius Curse was not something to be cast without serious consideration. The problem was she didn't have much time to think about it! It boiled down to using the curse, rescuing Natasha and facing life in Wizarding prison, or risk her own and Natasha's lives and the possibility of magical kind being discovered all around the world. That didn't seem like a difficult choice after all.

"Now, we'll take possession of your wand," the woman said and as she spoke, two of the mercenaries seized her arms. Hermione bit back the Imperius Curse that was on the tip of her tongue. Now was not the time. But nor could she let them have her wand.

Acting quickly, but focusing hard, she wordlessly teleported her own wand out of her hand. It was a spell she had been practicing for a few months just in case a situation like this should arise. Enchantments upon your own wand were very tricky to get right, so she was relieved to keep the magical device away from these people.

"That was a mistake," the woman said coldly. "And Agent Romanoff is the one who is going to pay for it. Take one of her fingers," she ordered, turning to the screen. Hermione saw Natasha's eyes widen as the knife was removed from her neck. A sick feeling pooled in her stomach as the knife man forced her hand to splay on the table, while the other continued to push the gun against her skull. "Make it slow. The Sorceress needs to know what happens when she disobeys."

Hermione realized that it was the perfect time to act and what was better, she wouldn't even have to use an unforgiveable curse. As horrendous as it was, Natasha being tortured was the perfect distraction because it kept the torturers' attention mostly on Romanoff. The mercenaries in the room with Hermione also thought she was less dangerous than before because she had magicked her wand away, but what they didn't know was that she hadn't sent it far – just into her deceptive pocket. The way her arms were being restricted meant that she could inch her fingers into her pocket and the position of the guard's body even prevented her movement from being seen by the others.

Natasha had yet to make a noise as her index finger was slowly sliced away. Hermione knew that Romanoff was a tough cookie but, surely, even she wouldn't be able to bear the pain.

"No, please!" Hermione begged, playing her part to avoid suspicion. "Stop!"

"The lesson must be learned," the woman insisted, turning back to the screen.

Hermione's fingers closed around the wood of her wand and she yanked it free, while wordlessly casting a freezing charm. A blue light swept around the room but the occupants remained still. She glanced anxiously at the screen but saw to her immense relief that Natasha's torturers hadn't noticed.

"No, stop it!" Hermione cried, keeping up appearances, as Natasha screamed for the first time.

Hermione hurried forwards to the woman, tore the mask from her face and wasted no time in performing legillimancy on her. Hermione was assaulted with various images and thoughts that made little sense to her. She pushed the idea of Natasha Romanoff into the woman's mind and hurriedly sifted through until she found where the agent was being held. Quickly, she pulled out of her mind. A last second glance told Hermione that the people hurting Natasha were still unaware that anything was amiss.

An instant later, she apparated behind the man with the gun and hit him with a powerful stunner, before blasting the other across the room. His head hit the wall with a crack then he slumped against the floor. She grabbed Natasha and disapparated them both to a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house in Istanbul. Romanoff's eyes seemed out of focus and she slumped to the ground, unable to support her own body. Hermione assumed she'd been kept drugged since her abduction a couple of days previously. Hermione looked down at Natasha's mutilated finger and started summoning supplies out of her pocket in response.

"You took your time," Natasha mumbled, as Hermione busied herself with essence of dittany and blood replenishing potions.

"I'm sorry," she replied with a slight smile. "Your finger's going to be okay. Just drink these for me," she instructed, handing over a couple of small bottles.

"Do they taste nice?" Natasha asked.

"Depends on your definition of 'nice'," Hermione answered, getting to her feet. "I've got to go back and take care of a few things. I won't be long, I promise." She disapparated before Natasha could offer an objection and reappeared back where she'd cast the freezing charm.

As soon as Hermione landed, she became aware of an intense heat and she threw up the strongest shield she could to protect herself. Thick, black smoke surrounded her, making it almost impossible to see anything. The soles of her feet were beginning to burn despite the protections she'd conjured. Taking a step to the side, she bumped into something. She took a torch out of her pocket and shone it around. When she saw what she'd nudged, she screamed. One of the mercenaries she'd frozen was still standing in place but his flesh had mostly been blasted and burnt away. Hermione retched at the revolting scene, though she knew that it was probably repeated on all the other occupants of the room too.

Hermione's assumption that the woman had been the head of this organisation, had been quite wrong, for whoever was truly in charge had wasted no time in disposing of the mercenaries before she got a chance to find out any more about them. It was a cold-hearted, merciless act and the worst thing, was that the Sorceress had gotten their attention.

* * *

Hermione cleared her throat. "Captain Rogers?" she enquired of the blond man whose back was to her. He turned at his name and smiled at her.

"Agent Granger?" If Hermione didn't know that this man remembered the early 1940s as though they were yesterday, she would think he had dressed in a fashionably retro style, but his high-waisted trousers were not something you'd really find on anyone under the age of seventy.

She nodded and offered a hand, which he shook. "Please, call me Hermione," she suggested.

"Of course, ma'am," he replied instinctively then cringed. Being called 'ma'am' by someone who was technically nearly a hundred years old was a rather odd moment for her. "Ah, Hermione. Sorry."

"It's fine," she replied with an easy smile. "There's no need to stand on protocol, Captain."

"Steve," he corrected.

"Steve," she repeated amiably. "So, where would you like to go? I expect this feels like a very different city after a gap of sixty-six years." They were standing on the corner of 42nd and Lexington, outside the Chrysler Building and just along from Grand Central Station.

"Yeah, you could say that," he agreed, his eyes looking around the people and vehicles passing them by. "But at least you picked somewhere I know for us to meet."

"It's the best-looking skyscraper in New York," she replied with a shrug.

He nodded with a slightly surprised and impressed expression. "Agreed."

"But not my favourite building," she claimed.

"No? Care to enlighten me?" he asked. "Is it something new to me?"

"Let's just say, if you've never heard of it, I'll be making serious judgements about you." He balked at the statement but her laugh seemed to relax him. "Come on, I'll show you. It's not far."

As they walked west along 42nd, it didn't take him long to guess.

"The New York Public Library," he said, looking over at the grand, white building that was just a couple of blocks from where they had started.

"And that tells you pretty much all you need to know about me," Hermione admitted with a self-deprecating grin. "The nickname 'bookworm' has been used on more than one occasion."

Steve laughed. "Now I understand why Fury asked _you_ to help get me up to speed on modern life."

"That might be something to do with it," she agreed with a smile, as they crossed the street to the library. "But also, to a certain extent, I can relate to feeling quite behind with technology."

"How so?"

"I had a rather sheltered life growing up," she explained. "I was educated at a pretty old-fashioned boarding school in the middle of nowhere, so I had a lot to learn when I came over here."

She saw his eyes roam over various electronic devices that the people who passed him were using. "Tell me about it," he muttered.

"Well, the library is actually a pretty good place to start; we'll stick with paper books for now."

He frowned at her. "What else are books made out of?!"

* * *

Hermione was impressed with the calm way that Steve was taking in the maelstrom of new information. They had been in the library for a couple of hours, catching up on the important historical events of the first ten years that he'd missed. They'd agreed to take things slowly to give him time to acclimatise and had put his cultural education on the backburner for a while, in favour of upping his use of technology. He'd been impressed by the e-books she'd shown him, which had led to a complicated explanation of the internet and online shopping.

She and Fury had decided that it would be best to avoid any mention of her abilities to Steve. He had been told that he was entirely free to choose what to do with his life now. Hermione was only there to help ease him back into the 21st century and there was no obligation for him to join S.H.I.E.L.D, although she knew that he would be a very valuable ally. But until they joined forces, there was no point in alarming him with her magic – the poor guy had already been through so much.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Hailsham-Grey," a female librarian said, pausing her and Steve's discussion on Rosa Parks. "This room will be closing in fifteen minutes."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Alice."

Steve waited until the librarian had left, before giving her a knowing smile. "Hailsham-Grey?"

She shrugged. "Hermione Granger has a lot of secrets and every good agent needs an alias, don't they, _Captain_?"

"I don't think any of my names were subtle enough to be true aliases."

"Yes, but 'The Star Spangled Man with a Plan' has such a lovely ring to it!" she teased.

"You're funny," he replied dryly.

"Sorry, I've been around Stark too much," she grinned.

He did a double take. "_Stark_?"

"Yes, _Tony_ Stark. I believe you were acquainted with his father, Howard?" Hermione explained and Steve nodded, the mood dampening somewhat as all the ghosts from his past were brought rushing back to him. "We'll get onto Tony soon enough – the silly prat can't stay out of the limelight for long."

"Is that new building his?" Steve asked, jerking his head towards the window. They couldn't see it from where they sat, but the not-quite-completed Stark Tower was only a couple of blocks away.

Hermione raised an ironic eyebrow. "Was it his name slapped up the top that gave it away?"

Steve grimaced slightly in distaste. "Maybe, but, you two are friends?"

"Er, reluctantly, yes," she answered, unsure of who had initially shown the greater averseness, but she truly did count Tony as a friend. Steve seemed to hear the warmth in her tone but didn't question her further. She reached down and pulled a paper file from her handbag. "Now, I know you've been given very vague details of what happened to your 'Howling Commandos' team and your colleagues at the Strategic Scientific Reserve, but most of the answers to your questions should be in here." She slid the folder across the table to him. The stamped red word of 'Classified' stood out starkly against the pale card. "I thought this was something you would rather look at by yourself," she said softly. Steve stared at it, his jaw clenched.

"Thank you," he replied stiffly.

Hermione shook her head. "No thanks necessary. You saved so many lives."

"We were at war. I did what anyone would have done." Steve wasn't bragging or boasting. He genuinely believed that what he'd done was no great feat. He reminded her so much of Harry at that moment, that her heart ached, and all the hardships of their fight against Voldemort swirled through her mind.

Their eyes met across the table.

"I understand," she whispered, surprising herself by saying it.

He frowned. "You've been at war." It wasn't a question.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "No, no of course not," she denied quickly. "Desolate boarding school education, remember?"

"You're lying," he accused flatly, picking up the folder and rising from his chair.

"I'm not – "

"Save your breath, Agent Granger," he interrupted, looking down on her. "I get that with your job, a lot of what you do is none of my business; it's confidential and that's fine. But don't lie to me – no one's ever lied to me." His tone wasn't cold, but it still left her feeling worse than any scolding by Snape ever had. Yes, she was lying, but she couldn't admit that to him. She already had too many cover stories. She was deceiving _so_ many people. In fact, the only person she wasn't lying to was Kingsley and she didn't even tell him everything that she was doing with S.H.I.E.L.D!

Hermione shrugged her jacket back on and picked up her handbag forlornly, as his footsteps echoed in the corridor. She knew that being an agent was going to be difficult, but she hadn't been prepared for the loneliness she would experience. Her work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been unfulfilling but she hadn't had the pressure of multiple duplicities bearing down on her or the fear of an imminent attack at every moment. She'd had Ron, Harry and her other friends playing a significant role in her life. After their mutual breakup over Christmas, Hermione had barely heard anything from Ron and she'd felt too guilty about all the lies she'd told him to pop round and visit. At first, she'd been worried that her friendship with Harry would be ruined too, but they wrote to each other frequently and he appeared to hold no grudge against her for choosing her career over their mutual best friend. She just wished that she could tell them both the truth.

For once, the beauty of the library's furnishings and architecture were somewhat lost on her, as she made her way out to the twilit skies.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been unable to determine who had been responsible for Natasha's abduction a couple of months ago, which made Hermione rather anxious. Some of S.H.I.E.L.D's agents had investigated the scene of the explosion after Hermione had left, but there had been next to nothing for them to work with because even the human remains she'd discovered hadn't been left behind. The whole building had been incinerated, as well as the location where Natasha had been kept. Whoever these people were, they were extremely dedicated in keeping their identity a secret. She had no doubt that they would try to reach out to her again and she dreaded to think what lengths they'd go to next time.

But despite the fear, the guilt and the loneliness, she enjoyed being an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. far too much to consider quitting.

Hermione glanced up at Stark Tower and considered popping in to visit Pepper and Tony, seeing as her chat with Captain Rogers had ended on such a bad note. She doubted she'd be a particularly welcome guest when she knew they were so close to getting the building's arc reactor up and running, but maybe she could be of help.

She was just about to dial Pepper's number into her phone when it started ringing, showing Coulson's ID.

"I'm giving you coordinates for the Mojave Desert," he said quickly. "Get yourself over here. _Now_."

* * *

A/N So that's the end of that! Look out soon(ish) for Hermione Granger: Avenger!

A couple of things to note. First, I know it sounds weird, but the annual Molecular Gastronomy convention was a real thing that used to happen in Erice, Sicily. Just thought you might like to know. Second, all translations were done on the internet so please don't get mad at me if they're wrong!

I can't wait for you guys to read the next fic! I promise that I'll put the first chapter up soon so you can follow it, if you want, before the rest goes up.

Thank you all for your support of this story! I really enjoy writing this crossover between Hermione and the Marvel Cinematic Universe. If you liked it too, please drop me a review :)

Until next time!

Lil Drop of Magic


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